A 


Fourth  ^mi^ 


$m¥^tY 


CLASSIC  SF.KIES 


UNKEftAITY  4 


KDucAfioi  sxn« 


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in  2008  with  funding  from 

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Claegjcg  for  CbJIbren. 

JOHN  S.  PRELL 

Civil  &  Mechanical  Engineer. 

SAN  FRAN^SGO,  CAL. 

Fourth  Reader. 

STICKNEY. 


BOSTON,  U.S.A.: 

GINN    &    COMPANY. 

1889. 

COPYRIGHT  BY  J.  H.  STICKNEY, 
ALL  RIGHT?  RESERVED. 


ANNOUNCEMENT. 


IN  homes  where  literary  taste  is  at  all  cultivated,  children  of 
nine  or  ten  years  will  speak  of  a  considerable  number  of  stand- 
ard juvenile  books  with  such  familiarity  as  to  show  that  the 
contents  are  in  a  large  measure  their  own.  With  better  facilities 
and  under  skilled  direction,  children  at  school  should  certainly 
have  more  to  show  for  their  reading  than  they  now  do.  The  half-- 
hour  given  to  the  reading  lesson  at  each  session  of  the  school,  if 
spent  upon  some  choice  book  or  selection,  Jirst,  for  the  inherent 
interest  in  the  theme  and  its  treatment,  and  second,  for  the  purpose 
of  learning  to  read  it  pleasantly,  would  result  in  better  readers, 
would  promote  all  the  incidental  objects  of  reading,  and  would  lay 
the  foundation  for  knowledge  and  taste  in  literature.  The  aim  of 
the  editor  and  publishers  of  this  series  has  been  to  advance  children, 
not  simply  in  the  oral  reading  of  set  lessons,  but  in  that  to  which 
fluent  oral  reading  is  a  means,  the  taste  for  a  kind  of  reading  which 
will  ennoble  and  instruct. 

Comparison  of  the  most  approved  American  and  foreign  reading- 
books  shows  that  while  in  England  provision  for  the  first  years 
is  inferior  to  our  own,  the  higher  English  readers  are  of  broader 
range  and  better  literary  quality.  This  is  in  part  because  they  are 
more  strictly  readers  —  they  do  not  attempt  to  cover  the  many 
specialties  which  have  attached  themselves  of  late  to  our  own 
readers ;  and  in  part  because  the  power  of  really  good  reading  to 
awaken  interest  and  impress  itself  upon  the  mind  has  come  to  be 
better  recognized. 

Two  views  obtain  among  teachers  with  regard  to  the  grade  of 
selections  appropriate  to  a  lesson  in  reading. 

One  makes  success  in  intelligent,  agreeable,  oral  expression,  for 


Typography  by  J.  S.  Gushing  &  Co.,  Presswork  by  Ginn  &  Co. 

Boston,  U.S.A.  .  _  ,       .  Boston,  U.S.A. 


GIFT 


ANNOUNCEMENT.  ^^J^        ^^^ 

the  cultivation  of  style  and  taste,  the  chief  desideratum ;  the  other 
requires  that  each  lesson  should  be  far  enough  above  the  pupil's 
attainment  to  be  a  study  demanding  effort  on  his  part  and  aid  from 
his  teacher.  The  books  of  this  series  represent  what  is  believed  to 
be  middle  ground  between  these  two  extremes. 

The  selections  are  mainly  literary  in  character,  and  in  the  nar- 
rative style,  which  makes  attractive  reading.  The  poetry  is  chosen 
ill  large  part  from  standard  authors.  The  aim  to  lead  pupils  to 
the  reading  of  hooks,  both  in  poetry  and  prose,  shows  itself  in  fewer 
short,  disconnected  lessons,  and  greater  continuity  of  subjects.  The 
practice  of  silent  reading  is  of  greater  importance  in  each  rising- 
grade .  At  least  half  a  dozen  good  books  should  be  thoroughly 
read  in  the  year  given  to  the  Fourth  Reader.  If  pupils  cannot 
make  these  books  their  own  property  for  home  use,  they  should  be 
freely  loaned  them. 

Historical  and  biographical  passages,  fragments  of  science  and 
natural  history,  and  details  of  description  are  omitted  from  this 
book  for  several  reasons.  It  is  taken  for  granted  that  provision 
will  be  otherwise  made  for  readings  whose  office  is  chiefly  to  in- 
struct, and  which,  to  be  of  benefit,  should  be  presented  in  connected 
series.  The  book  will  lead  to  the  interest  in  any  record  of  life  and 
its  incidents,  and  so  awaken  the  desire  for  knowledge  in  all  these 
lines. 

Indebtedness  for  copyrighted  material  is  gratefully  acknowl- 
edged to  the  authors  and  publishers  named  below.  To  Messrs. 
Houghton  and  Mifflin  for  "A  Night  with  a  WoK,"  by  Bayard 
Taylor;  " Red  Top  and  Timothy,"  by  Miss  Larcom;  "The  Story 
of  the  Amber  Beads  "  and  "  Quercus  Alba,"  by  Miss  Andrews.  To 
Messrs.  Harper  &  Brothers  for  "Friquet  and  Friquette,"  from 
Home  Fairy  Tales,  by  Jean  Mace.  To  Messrs.  Roberts  Brothers 
for  "The  Ant's  Monday  Dinner,"  by  Mrs.  Jackson  (H.  H.),  and 
"  How  the  Leaves  came  Down,"  by  Susan  Coolidge. 

By  special  arrangement  and  permission  of  Messrs.  Houghton 
and  Mifflin  the  use  is  authorized  of  "  Rain  in  Summer  "  and  "  Ex- 
celsior," by  Longfellow,  and  "  The  Fountain/'  b^  Lowell, 


379 


CONTENTS. 


PAGK 

His  Sistek's  Story 1,  5 

The  Cat-Rabbit 12,  15,  18 

A  LiTTLB  Goose 21 

The  Story  of  the  Amber  Beads 25 

Hop-Picking 30 

Learning  to  Swim 31 

How  TO  make  the  best  of  it 37 

The  Eagle's  Nest 40,  48,  53,  60,  65 

Robin  Redbreast r        .         .    46 

The  Linnet  Choir 57 

Birds  in  Summer .    73 

Papa's  Story  of  the  Butterfly 75 

The  King  and  Queen's  Quarrel 80,  85 

The  Miller  of  the  Dee .91 

Through  the  Wood 93, 99 

The  Fox  and  the  Cat 103 

A  Laughing  Song 106 

The  Boasting  Wolf 106 

That's  not  the  Way  at  Sea 109 

Gleaners 112 

The  Basket-Woman 113,  119,  126 

Blunder 133,139,143 

Our  Garden 147,  151 

The  Ant's  Monday  Dinner 156,  159 

Afraid  of  Spiders 164 

Tw^iNETTE 167,  170,  175 

The  Boisterous  Wind 180 

Thb  AgoRjf  ANp  TiiB  Cuilp  .,,.,.,.  135 


CONTENTS.  V 

PAGE 

Qdercus  Alba         ....  ....    187,  193 

The  Chimney-Sweep 198 

Little  Tom,  the  Chimney-Sweep 200,  209 

1?HE  Pet  Lamb 203,  206 

Little  Streams 213 

The  Anxious  Leaf 215 

How  THE  Leaves  came  down 217 

The  Fox  and  the  Horse 219 

What  the  Goodman  does  is  Right 222,  229 

The  Tree .        .        .228 

The  Use  of  Flowers .        .  234 

Tom,  the  Water-Baby 235 

Tom  and  the  Lobster 239 

Mrs.  Be-Done-By-As-You-Did 242 

Red  Top  and  Timothy 245 

Mrs.  Do-As-You-Wodld-Be-Done-By 247 

A  Night  with  a  Wolf .  250 

Ben  Brightboots 253,  258,  264,  269,  275 

Good  Morrow 262 

Winter  Rain 273 

Friquet  and  Friquette 279,  287,  299 

Mabel  on  a  Midsummer  Day        .         .         .         .         .         .    283,  292 

The  Fairies  of  Caldon  Low 305 

The  Frozen  Zone 310 

The  Busy  Little  Lapps 314 

Iceland  and  Greenland 317 

The  Story  of  Goody  Blake  and  Harry  Gill  .        .        .    323,  326 

The  Truth-Teller 329 

The  Battle  of  Blenheim 334 

Our  Dandie 338,  344 

The  Fountain 342 

Tubal  Cain 348 

The  Stone  in  the  Road 352 

Rain  in  Summer 356,  358 

Excelsior •    .        .        .        .  360 


Frontispiece. 


loaRTH  lEADER. 


»5»ic 


I. 


sen-tenced         lec-tured  foot-board  fid-get 

ca-pa-ble  cap-i-tal  con-demned      pre-tend-ed 

trou-ble-some   mis-chiev-ous    ad-ven-tures     quar-relled 


HIS    SISTER'S    STORY.  — Part  I. 

1.  Fred  was  six,  and  the  top  of  his  head  just 
reached  to  the  tip  of  Hilda's  nose;  Hilda  was 
ten,  and  thought  herself  quite  capable  of  being 
Fred's  aunt,  instead  of  his  sister.  They  often 
quarrelled,  and  while  together  hardly  knew  how 
much  they  loved  each  other ;  but  when  Hilda  was 
at  school  Fred  felt  out  of  sorts,  and  did  as  much 
mischief  as  possible ;  and  once,  when  Fred  went 
away  with  his  father  for  a  whole  week,  Hilda  felt 
very  dull,  and  longed  to  have  the  naughty  boy 
back  again. 

2.  This  wise  little  person  one  day  made  up  her 
mind  to  write  a  history  of  her  boy's  mischievous 
pranks,  and  some  time  or  other  read  it  to  him. 


"I  FOURTH  READER. 

That  would  be  a  capital  way  of  making  him 
ashamed  of  the  past,  and  making  him  wise  and 
good  all  at  once ;  so  one  dark  day,  just  before 
Christmas,  the  holidays  having  begun,  and  Fred 
having  been  more  troublesome  than  ever,  Hilda 
said,  — 

"  Fred,  come  here." 

3.  But  Fred  was  sitting  in  a  corner  trying  to 
mend  the  hind  leg  of  his  wooden  horse,  which  he 
had  most  unluckily  just  broken  off.  He  was 
cross,  and  pretended  not  to  hear. 

"  Do  come  here,  Fred ;  I  am  going  to  read  to 
you,"  said  Hilda,  in  a  coaxing  voice,  and  she  held 
up  the  wonderful  history,  and  Fred  came.  Like 
everybody  in  the  world,  he  was  fond  of  stories. 

4.  "  Now  sit  down  on  that  stool,  and  don't  kick 
and  fidget,  and  I'll  tell  you  the  story  of  the  robber 
chief  Rufus  Roughwig,  and  his  wonderful  deeds 
and  adventures." 

Fred  sat  on  the  stool,  and  neither  kicked  nor 
fidgeted,  and  Hilda  began. 

5.  "  Once  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  robber  chief 
called  Rufus  Roughwig.  He  had  a  fairy  god- 
mother, and,  because  he  was  always  doing  such 
dreadful  things,  this  fairy  made  a  book  about  him, 
and  wrote  in  it  everything  he  did.     Then  she  sent 


HIS    SISTER  S    STORY.  3 

the  book  to  the  city  to  be  printed,  tliat  everybody 
in  the  whole  world  might  read  it,  and  see  what  a 
shocking  robber  chief  Rufus  Rough  wig  was.  I 
have  the  fairy's  book,  and  you  shall  hear  the 
whole  story." 

6.  Fred  pricked  up  his  little  ears.  Never  had 
he  heard  of  a  robber  chief  with  a  fairy  godmother. 
What  a  jolly  story ! 

"Now  listen.  ^January  1.  —  Rufus  began  the 
year  by  kicking  the  footboard  out  of  his  bed,  and 
when  he  got  up  he  put  his  clean  sock  to  swim  in 
the  basin.' " 

Fred's  eyes  opened  wide,  but  he  said  nothing. 

7.  "'January  18.  —  All  the  boys  were  out  with 
their  sleds.  Rufus  thought  it  would  be  nice  to 
bury  his  hat  in  the  snow,  so  that  it  would  not 
be  found  before  the  snow  melted  in  the  spring. 
He  did  it,  but  as  his  left  ear  got  frost-bitten,  this 
time  his  mamma  let  him  off  with  a  warning.' " 

"I  looked  for  my  hat,  I  did." 

8.  "  Listen  again.  '  February  14.  —  Mamma  had 
eggs  in  a  basket,  and  she  put  them  in  the  ante-room, 
because  there  was  no  fire  there.  Rufus  found  the 
basket,  and  played  at  marbles  with  the  eggs  till 
they  got  broken,  and  the  green  sofa  was  spoiled. 
For  this  crime  he  was  sentenced  to  be  shut  up  in 


4  FOURTH    READER. 

the  little  pantry ;  and  he  found  a  pot  of  jam  and 
ate  it  all  up.  He  was  then  shut  up  in  papa's 
study,  and  condemned  to  sit  still.'  " 

9.  Fred  looked  ill  at  ease,  but  laughed. 

''  What  a  horrid  robber  chief  !    But  there's  more 
still.     '  March  7.  —  Rufus  had  a  sister.'  " 
"Her  name  was  Hilda,"  said  Fred. 

10.  "The  book  says  her  name  was  Arabella. 
^Arabella  had  a  most  lovely,  good  doll,  called 
Ellen.  One  day,  while  she  was  at  school,  Rufus 
poked  out  one  of  Ellen's  eyes  to  see  what  it  was 
made  of.  Afterwards  he  hung  Ellen  up  by  the 
curls  to  the  bell-pull.  When  Arabella  came  home 
and  saw  the  darling,  she  began  to  cry.'  " 

11.  Fred  grew  very  red,  and  his  heels  were  heard 
kicking  against  the  stool. 

"^Rufus  cried  too,  and  asked  his  papa  to  be 
doctor  and  cure  Ellen.'  What  a  cruel  robber 
chief ! " 

"  But  she's  all  right  now." 

12.  "  Only  it  is  a  pity  that  Rufus  should  do  such 
dreadful  deeds.  ^A  week  afterwards,  on  the  14th 
of  March,  he  was  in  a  hurry  to  go  out  to  skate, 
and  he  could  not  find  his  woollen  mittens;  so  he 
took  a  pair  of  his  mamma's  nice  white  kid  gloves, 
and  put  them  on  his  brown  little  hands.     Off  he 


His  sisters  story.  5 

set,  and  when  he  came  home  one  was  lost  in  the 
snow,  and  there  was  not  a  finger  left  on  the 
other.'     Was  not  that  a  noble  deed  ?" 

"My  hands  were  cold." 

" '  His  mamma  lectured,  but  Rufus  did  not 
improve.' " 


Adventure.  —  Anything  out  of 
the  common  way  that  a  person 
goes  through. 

Ante-room.  —  A  small  room  lead- 
ing into  a  larger  one. 


Capable  of  being.  —  Fit  to  be. 
Condemned  to  sit  still.  —  It  was 

ordered  that  he  should  sit  still 

as  a  punishment. 


Find  in  the  reading  the  place  where  "  out  of  sorts  "  is  used ; 
then  read  the  paragraph,  using  an  expression  of  your  own  instead. 
Do  the  same  with  "longed,"  "pranks,"  "a  capital  way," 
"  unluckily,"  "  lecture,"  and  "  improve." 


>^♦ic 


II. 


com-mit-ted 
sus-pi-cious 


ar-rest-ed 
re-proof 


pun-isli-ment 
sno"w-ball-ing 


beam-ing 
por-trait 


HIS    SISTER'S    STORY.  — Part  II. 

1.  Hilda  went  on  reading :  — 

"^  April  22.  —  His  mamma  had  sowed  peas  in 
the  morning,  and  in  the  evening  Rufus  pulled  up  a 
whole  row  to  see  which  of  them  had  grown  the 
most.     This  time  he  escaped  with  a  reproof. 


6 


FOURTH  READER. 


2.  "  ^  April  23.  —  He  broke  one  of  the  best  tea- 
cups, and  then  pounded  it  in  the  mortar,  to  make 
the  cook  believe  it  was  sifted  sugar. 

3.  "  '  St.  John's  day.  —  Eufus  committed  so 
many  crimes  on  this  day  that  it  was  not  possible 
to  write  them  all.'  " 


"Hilda,  I  only  tore  two  holes  in  my  jacket, 
and  one  was  a  very  little  one." 

4.  "Listen  again.  ^  June  30.  —  Eufus  dug  a 
hole  in  the  garden,  and  buried  papa's  seal-ring, 
mamma's  gold  thimble,  six  fir-apples,  and  a  toad 


HIS    SISTEK  S    STORY.  7 

in  it ;  this  was  a  robber's  cave.  The  house  was 
turned  upside  down  to  find  the  ring  and  the 
thimble.  At  last  Rufus  was  taken  prisoner  as  a 
suspicious  character;  he  admitted  that  he  had 
buried  the  treasure.'     Was  that  good  ?  " 

"  But  I  told  the  truth  the  minute  I  was  asked." 

5.  "^July  27. — Rufus  went  to  the  shore,  took 
the  boat,  and  tried  to  row.  The  water  was  rough, 
and  the  noble  chieftain  drifted  out  to  sea ;  he 
began  to  cry  for  help.' " 

"  I  could  have  rowed  quite  well,  only  —  the 
oars  were  too  big." 

6.  "'  And  Rufus  Rough  wig  was  too  little.  Sam 
followed  in  the  big  boat,  and  saved  the  brave  cap- 
tain, and  this  time  the  judge  thought  the  fright 
was  punishment  enough.  Next  day  he  tried  to 
ride  on  the  biggest  cow,  fell  off,  and  was  wounded 
in  the  head.' " 

"  I  know  how  to  ride  horses." 

7.  "^August  11.  —  The  robber  chief  resolved  to 
mount  Billy,  the  goat ;  Billy  butted,  Rufus  ran 
away,  and  the  enemy  pursued  him.  If  Mary  had 
not  come  up  just  then  with  the  milk-pails,  there 
would  have  been  a  dreadful  defeat.'  " 

"  I  hit  that  goat,  I  did." 

" '  It  is  supposed  that  Rufus  fancied  he  hit  the 


8 


FOURTH  READER. 


goat,  but  that  he  really  shouted,  '  Oh,  Mary,  help 
me!' 

8.  "  '  September   4.  —  Rufus    drew   his    school- 
master's portrait  on  the  clean  white  wall  in  the 


kitchen  with  horrid  black  coal.     He  was  put  in 
prison  for  an  hour.' " 

"I  climbed  out  of  the  window,"  broke  in  Fred. 

"  ^  The   prisoner   was    removed   to   the    garret^ 


HIS  sister's  story.  9 

where  it  was  not  easy  to  escape  through  the 
window. 

"'October  16.  —  Rufus  set  fire  to  Mary's  flax 
while  she  was  spinning.  He  was  condemned  to 
go  to  bed  at  six  o'clock. 

"  '  November  3.  —  Without  waiting  to  ask  leave, 
he  crept  out  over  the  thin  ice  to  pull  out  a  little 
boy  who  had  fallen  in.  For  this  crime  the  chief 
was  first  arrested  and  afterwards  rewarded. 

9.  "'December  4.  —  This  was  a  dreadful  day. 
Rufus  fought  with  the  Roberts  boys  for  a  priceless 
treasure  found  in  the  stable,  —  this  was  a  dead 
mouse.  The  chief  struck  Charlie  Roberts,  and 
gave  him  a  black  eye.  He  was  condemned  to  say 
he  was  sorry.' " 

"  Charlie  struck  me  first." 

10.  "  Yes,  but  he  was  only  four,  and  Rufus  was 
six,  past ;  a  big  boy  strike  a  little  one,  dreadful ! 
'When  Rufus  would  not  say  that  he  was  sorry, 
then  papa  whipped  him  —  the  first  time  this 
year.  The  next  day  the  boys  were  snow-balling, 
and  the  robber  chief  flung  quite  a  hard  ball  at 
Charlie,  and  his  cheek  swelled.'  Was  that 
right?" 

11.  Fred  was  silent. 

"  That  was  what  is  called  revenge,  and  revenge 


10  FOURTH    READER. 

is  the  naughtiest  thing  in  the  whole  world.  How 
can  such  a  robber  chief  ever  be  happy  any  more  ?  " 

Fred  felt  tears  coming,  and  made  his  eyes  quite 
round,  and  shut  his  teeth  tight,  to  prevent  himself 
crying.  In  a  minute  or  two  he  got  up  and  ran 
away ;   half-an-hour  after  he  hopped  in,  beaming. 

"  Where  did  you  go  to,  Fred  ? " 

12.  Fred  looked  a  little  shy.  "  Oh,  over  there, 
you  know."  He  fidgeted  about,  then  got  very 
red,  and  said  very  fast,  "  You  know  my  sled,  don't 
you,  Hil — that  beauty  I  got  last  Christmas?  You 
know  it's  the  best  sled  that  ever  was  seen." 

"  Yes,  I  know ;  and  you  love  it  as  well  as  Sam 
loves  his  best  horse,  and  you  always  say  it's  the 
best  in  the  town." 

"I  have  given  it  to  Charlie,  and  he's  so  glad. 
Hilda,  if  you  could  only  have  seen  how  very  glad 
he  was !  " 

13.  "And  you,  Fred?" 

"I'm  glad,  too.  You  see,  Hilda,  I've  been  so 
bad  ever  since  that  dead  mouse,  and  when  you 
spoke  about  it,  I  could  stand  it  no  longer ;  so  I 
went  to  Charlie,  you  know,  and  now  it's  all  right ; 
he  is  pleased.  If  you  only  saw !  And  now 
Christmas  will  be  real  jolly  !  " 

1^.  Hilda  put  her  two  arms  round  Fred,  kissed 


HIS    SISTERS    STORY. 


11 


him,  and  danced  round  the  room  with  him  seven 
times. 

"Do  you  know  what,  Fred?  When  Rufus' 
fairy  godmother  sends  the  book  to  be  printed,  I'll 
ask  her  to  tell  the  story  of  the  dead  mouse." 

And  this  is  all  we  know  of  the  deeds  and 
adventures  of  the  robber  chief,  Rufus  Roughwig. 

—  From  the  Finnish. 


Admitted.  —  Confessed. 
Arrested.  —  Taken  prisoner. 
Portrait.  —  Picture,  likeness. 
Priceless  treasure.  —  Something 

so  precious  that  no  price  is  large 

enough  to  buy  it. 
Pursued.  —  Ran  after. 


Removed.  —  Taken  away. 
Revenge.  —  Doing   an  injury  in 

return  for  an  injury  received. 
Suspicious  character. — A  person 

whose  past  actions  make  people 

suspect  him. 
Defeat.  —  Failure. 


Use  other  words  for  "let  him  off  with  a  reproof  "  ;  for  "resolved 
to  mount";  for  "  would  have  been  a  dreadful  defeat "  ;  for  "  deeds 
and  adventures."  Read  the  paragraphs  that  contain  these  phrases 
again,  giving  the  meaning  in  your  own  way. 

Practise  saying  the  following  words  in  sentences,  taking  care 
to  give  the  final  y  the  sound  of  short  i,  and  not,  as  do  many, 
short  e :  — 


pan-try 
fair-y 


liur-ry 
stud-y 


beau-ty 
liap-py 


eas-y 
re-al-ly 


The  story  Hilda  wrote  was  in  the  form  of  a  Diary ;  that  is,  the 
doings  of  each  day  were  put  in  writing,  with  the  date. 

Copy  what  was  written  on  August  11,  and  tell  how  many 
separate  facts  are  noted.  AVrite  a  record  of  your  own  for  the  day 
in  which  you  have  this  lessoa. 


12  FOURTH    READER. 


III. 


tongue  cud-died  dis-po-si-tion  i-deas 

aclied  sat-is-fied  com-plained  dif-fer-ence 


THE    CAT-RABBIT.  — Parti. 

1.  In  a  round  basket  lined  with  soft  green  cloth, 
not  far  from  the  kitchen  fire,  lay  a  large  white 
pussy  cat,  with  two  kittens,  one  black  with  white 
spots,  and  the  other  white  with  yellow  trimmings. 
The  cat  washed  her  kittens  till  her  rough  tongue 
ached  so  that  she  had  to  rest  it ;  and  as  soon  as 
it  was  rested,  she  washed  them  both  all  over  again. 

2.  By  and  by  a  little  girl  came  in,  bringing 
something  very  carefully  in  her  hands. 

''  It  isn't  anything  for  you  to  eat,  Selina ;  it  is 
something  for  you  to  take  care  of,"  she  said. 

"  Selina "  was  the  name  by  which  Alice  called 
the  cat. 

3.  "  My  white  rabbit  has  such  a  number  of  little 
ones,  —  more  than  she  can  possibly  take  good  care 
of,  I  am  sure  ;  and  as  you  have  only  two  kittens, 
I  thought  I  would  give  you  one  of  them.  I  am 
sure  you  will  be  kind  to  it." 

4.  The  old  cat  was  asleep  just  then,  and  had 
not  heard  a  word  that  Alice  had  said. 


THE    CAT-EABBIT.  13 

Alice  went  softly  to  the  basket,  and  put  the 
little  rabbit  down  by  Selina's  side ;  then  she  sat 
down  and  waited  to  see  what  would  happen. 

5.  To  her  great  delight,  as  soon  as  she  opened 
her  eyes,  puss  gave  it  a  loving  lick  all  down  its 
back. 

The  little  rabbit  nearly  fell  over,  for  the  touch 
was  not  as  gentle  as  she  had  had  before ;  but  she 
cuddled  up  close  and  lay  still,  so  that  Alice  was 
satisfied  that  it  was  safe  to  leave  them  together. 

6.  That  afternoon  the  basket  was  carried  up 
stairs.  "  Are  they  not  lovely  kittens  ? "  asked 
Alice;  "1  shall  call  them  Fluffy  and  Bu%,  but 
what  shall  I  call  the  little  rabbit  ?  I  wonder 
whether  it  will  grow  up  most  like  a  cat  or  a 
rabbit?" 

"  I  should  think  it  would  always  be  a  rabbit," 
said  her  sister  May. 

7.  "  Of  course,  I  know  it  will  always  be  a  rabbit 
in  one  sense,  but  it  will  have  all  the  ideas  of  a  cat, 
I  think."  May  did  not  know  about  ideas  ;  she 
thought  it  must  mean  something  like  catching 
mice ;  but  as  Alice  was  not  pleased  to  have  this 
habit  of  Selina's  talked  about,  she  said  nothing. 

8.  The  children  were  called  to  tea,  and  Alice 
had  to  leave  her  pets.     "It  will  be  a  cat-rabbit," 


14  FOURTH    READER. 

she  said,  as  she  helped  herself  to  bread  and  butter. 
"  I  wish  I  could  think  of  a  good  name  for  it." 

But  she  never  could,  so  it  was  always  called  the 
"  cat-rabbit." 

9.  It  was  a  great  delight  to  Alice  to  notice  that 
Selina  treated  the  cat-rabbit  exactly  like  one  of 
her  own  children  ;  or,  if  she  made  any  difference, 
with  more  tenderness. 

10.  Puss  was  quite  sure  that  the  cat-rabbit  would 
open  its  eyes  first,  and  she  was  right.  "  Dear 
little  thing,"  she  said,  "  how  wise  she  looks.  She 
takes  after  me  already." 

11.  As  the  children  grew  older  and  stronger, 
mother  Puss  would  leave  them  for  awhile  in  their 
basket,  and  great  games  the  kittens  had,  tumbling 
over  one  another  in  every  possible  way.  Cat- 
rabbit  never  joined  in  the  romps,  but  sat  looking 
on  without  so  much  as  a  smile. 

12.  "  She  is  so  stupid,"  the  kittens  complained 
to  their  mother,  ''  she  will  not  play  at  all." 

"  Sweet  child,"  the  mother  would  reply,  "  that 
is  because  of  her  gentle  disposition.  I  had  just 
the  same  when  I  was  at  her  age." 


Tell  this  story  as  fully  as  you  can,  and  using,  as  far  as  you 
remember  them,  the  words  used  in  the  book. 


THE    CAT-RABBIT.  15 


IV. 


reg-u-lar  squeak-ing  sliuf-fling  v^rath. 

un-us-u-al  per-suade  anx-ious  act-u-al-ly 

ea-ger-ness  awk-^ward  poi-son-ous         for-got-ten 


THE    CAT-RABBIT.  — Part    II. 

1.  One  day  when  pussy  came  home  to  her 
family  there  was  a  regular  fight  going  on  in  the 
basket.  The  cat-rabbit  was  squeaking,  —  a  most 
unusual  thing. 

"  What  is  going  on  ?  "  asked  Selina. 

''  We  were  only  trying  to  pull  the  little  one's 
tail  to  the  right  length/'  said  Buffy ;  "  it  looks  so 
very  odd." 

'•  Her  tail  is  long  enough,"  answered  Mother 
Puss  ;  "  do  not  meddle  with  it  again." 

2.  In  her  heart  she  had  great  fears  about  the 
little  one's  tail,  and  had  often  watched  it,  trying 
to  persuade  herself  that  it  grew.  "  I  cannot 
understand  it,"  she  said  to  herself.  "  There  never 
was  anything  of  that  kind  in  our  family.  But  her 
ears  are  wonderful,  and  will  make  a  grand  appear- 
ance when  she  learns  to  hold  them  upright." 

3.  The  kittens  were  always  finding  something 
to  complain  of  in  the  poor  cat-rabbit. 

One  day  it  was  :  "  She  cannot  even  mew." 


16  FOURTH    READER. 

"  That's  her  sweet  temper." 

"  But  she  does  not  purr." 

"  Her  purr  will  be  all  the  stronger  by  and  by." 

"  But  I  can  purr  as  loud  as  you  now,  mother," 
said  Buffy. 

4.  Selina  did  not  know  what  to  say,  and  the 
matter  ended.     At  another  time  it  was,  — 

"  She  has  such  a  shuffling,  awkward  walk." 

Another  day  Fluffy  and  Buffy  came  running  to 
her  in  great  haste.  "  Do  look  at  the  little  one," 
they  said ;  ''  she  is  actually  eating  a  bit  of  raw 
cabbage-leaf  that  Miss  Alice  dropped  on  the  floor." 

6.  This  roused  the  mother.  "  Put  that  poison- 
ous stuff  down  this  instant,  you  naughty  child," 
she  said.  She  gave  the  kittens  a  punishment  for 
telling  tales,  but  she  felt  anxious  about  these 
strange  ways. 

For  instance,  when  she  told  the  children  about 
the  use  of  their  claws,  and  the  kittens  listened 
with  eagerness,  the  cat-rabbit  did  not  take  in  a 
single  word.  She  never  showed  the  faintest  inter- 
est in  her  mother's  tail ;  and  when  Alice  swung  a 
cork  on  a  line  for  them  to  play  with,  she  sat  by 
without  once  trying  to  catch  it. 

6.  One  day  mother  Puss  happened  to  meet 
Ponto,  Alice's  dog.      They  were  not  on  the  best 


THE    CAT-RABBIT.  17 

of  terms,  but  lie  stopped  and  asked,  "Does  it 
belong  to  your  family  to  eat  dry  bran?" 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Selina;  "what  do  you 
mean  ( 

"  Oh,  nothing,  only  I  happened  to  see  one  of 
them  with  her  nose  in  a  saucer  of  raw  bran." 

7.  Mother  Puss  blushed,  but  she  carried  it  off 
very  well. 

"Some  childish  prank,"  she  said;  "my  family 
is  so  large  I  can  hardly  look  after  them  properly." 

She  lost  no  time  in  running  up  stairs  to  see' 
what  was  going  on.  There,  sure  enough,  was  the 
cat-rabbit,  busy  with  a  saucer  of  bran. 

8.  "  Little  one,"  she  said,  more  sorry  than 
angry,  "  I  would  have  lost  a  whole  mouse  sooner 
than  have  seen  this  sight."  The  cat-rabbit  never 
looked  up,  but  went  quietly  on  with  the  bran. 
"  Do  you  wish  to  break  your  poor  mother's  heart  ?  " 

9.  Just  then  the  bran  came  to  an  end,  and  the 
cat-rabbit  came  to  her  mother  with  such  gentle- 
ness that  her  wrath  was  for  a  moment  forgotten. 

But  Mother  Puss  became  daily  more  unhappy 
about  her  smallest  darling.  "  I  fear,"  she  at  last 
made  up  her  mind,  "that  her  tail  will  never  be 
quite  like  those  of  other  people.  But  that  is  not 
her  fault,  poor  dear,"  she  added. 


18  FOURTH   EEADER. 

10.  "  You  might  try  to  hold  up  your  ears  a  little, 
my  child,"  she  said  one  day ;  but  the  cat-rabbit 
was  almost  spoiled  with  the  treatment  she  had 
from  the  kittens,  and  she  did  not  answer. 


Continue  the  story-telling  from  memory. 

Write  a  comparison  of  the  cat  and  the  rabbit.     Speak  of  their 
different  motions ;  their  different  wants  and  enjoyments. 


>:<Kc 


V. 


a-roused  hutch.  con-ceal 

pur-pose  front  pro-vide  in-ter-rupt 


THE    CAT-RABBIT.  — Part   III. 

1.  The  older  they  grew,  the  less  the  kittens 
could  get  on  with  the  little  one. 

The  time  came  when  their  mother  thought  they 
were  old  enough  for  a  mouse  hunt,  and  she  took 
them  to  a  hole  in  front  of  which  she  told  them  to 
sit  quietly  till  a  mouse  should  appear.  The  cat- 
rabbit  sat  as  still  as  the  rest,  but  showed  no  inter- 
est whatever. 

2.  "  Stupid  little  thing,"  said  Bu%. 

"The  calmer  one  keeps,  the  better,"  said  Mother 
Puss. 


THE    CAT-RABBIT.  19 

When,  however,  the  moment  arrived,  and  the 
mouse  passed  under  the  cat-rabbit's  very  nose,  and 
she  did  not  even  stretch  a  claw  to  prevent  its 
escape,  the  old  cat's  wrath  was  aroused. 

3.  "  You  heartless  child,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I 
believe  you  did  it  on  purpose.  Leave  the  hole 
at  once."  "  Such  a  lovely  mouse,"  sobbed  the 
kittens,  "  and  we've  lost  it." 

The  cat-rabbit  moved  away.  "  I  will  not  stay 
here  to  be  so  treated.  Why  can't  they  let  me 
alone  ?  all  I  ask  is  a  cabbage  leaf  and  comfort." 

4.  The  door  was  open,  and  she  hopped  down 
stairs  and  out  into  the  yard.  Ponto  had  gone  out 
for  a  walk,  and  she  sat  for  some  time  wondering 
what  would  come  next. 

5.  By  and  by  Miss  Alice  appeared.  "  You  poor 
little  cat-rabbit,"  she  said ;  "  have  you  come  to 
look  for  your  old  friends?"  and  she  lifted  the 
little  thing  in  her  arms,  and,  opening  the  door  of 
the  rabbit  hutch,  she  put  it  gently  in. 

What  was  the  cat-rabbit's  surprise  to  find  there 
another  little  person  with  long  ears  that  did  not 
stand  up,  and  a  short  tail  like  her  own.  Alice 
put  in  a  bunch  of  green  and  left  them  together. 

6.  ''  Mamma,"  she  said,  when  she  returned  to 
the  house,  "  I  think  I  shall  leave  the  poor  cat- 


20  FOURTH   READER. 

rabbit  in  the  hutch.  I  am  afraid  she  is  not  happy 
with  the  cats.  I  saw  Selina  bite  her  the  other 
day,  and  the  kittens  are  so  rough  with  her.  The 
poor  thing  ran  away  from  them  to-day." 

7.  After  the  mouse  hunt  was  over,  Mother  Puss 
looked  around  for  the  little  one,  but  she  was  not 
to  be  found  anywhere.  The  kittens  could  hardly 
'conceal  their  delight.  Mother  Puss  did  not  mew 
long.  "  I  dare  say  it  is  all  for  the  best ;  she  never 
would  have  grown  up  to  be  credit  to  me,  and  Miss 
Alice  will  provide  for  her,"  she  said. 

8.  The  cat-rabbit  meanwhile  munched  away 
with  her  new  friend  with  great  delight.  They 
did  not  talk  much,  but  that  was  what  pleased  both 
of  them  best,  as  it  did  not  interrupt  the  munching. 

Alice  was  the  only  one  who  felt  disappointed 
and  dissatisfied.  "I  did  so  hope  the  cat-rabbit 
would  turn  out  partly  a  cat ;  mamma,  but  she's 
nothing  but  a  rabbit  after  all !  " 


A  most  unusual  thing.  —  Some- 
thing that  does  not  happen 
often. 

Does  it  belong  to  your  family  ? 
etc.  —  Is  it  one  of  the  usual 
ways  of  a  cat  ? 

Explain  in  ways  of  your  own :  "  To  her  great  delight " ;   "  make 
a  grand  appearance  "  ;    "  carried  it  off  very  well." 


Not  on  the  best  of  terms.  —  Not 
very  friendly  with  each  other. 

She  is  actually  eating.  —  Not 
pretending  to  eat,  but  really 
or  truly  doing  it. 


A   LITTLE    GOOSE."  21 


VT. 

aim-less-ly    muf-fled  des-pair-ing  h.ome-'ward 

dier-islied     sougli-(suf-)ing     con-fi-den-tial  as-ton-isiied 

min-gled        liun-dred  trun-dle  bed  sliiv-er-ing 


A    LITTLE    GOOSE. 

The  chill  November  day  was  done, 

The  working  world  home  faring ; 
The  wind  came  roaring  through  the  streets, 

And  set  the  gaslights  flaring ; 
And  hopelessly  and  aimlessly 

The  seared  old  leaves  were  flying  — 
When,  mingled  with  the  soughing  wind, 

I  heard  a  small  voice  crying. 

And,  shivering  at  the  corner,  stood 

A  child  of  four,  or  over ; 
No  cloak  or  hat  her  small  soft  arms 

And  wind-blown  curls  to  cover ; 
Her  dimpled  face  was  stained  with  tears. 

Her  round  blue  eyes  ran  over ; 
She  cherished  in  her  wee  cold  hand 

A  bunch  of  faded  clover. 

And,  one  hand  round  her  treasure,  while 
She  slipped  in  mine  the  other, 


22 


FOURTH  READER. 


Half-scared,  half-confidential,  said, 

"  Oh,  please,  I  want  my  mother !  " 
"  Tell  me  your  street  and  number,  pet 


UMni 

■HH 

^^^1^ 
^^^^1  ^"^ 

|U    ^^'^                          A 

mmi,^^ 

:     ^-%t3<.^=».; 

Don't  cry  —  I'll  take  you  to  it." 
Sobbing,  she  answered, "  I  forget ; 
The  organ  made  me  do  it. 

"He  came  and  played  at  Miller's  step, 
The  monkey  took  the  money ; 


A   LITTLE    GOOSE.  23 

I  followed  down  the  street  because 

That  monkey  was  so  furtiny. 
I've  walked  about  a  hundred  hours 

From  one  street  to  another ; 
The  monkey's  gone,  I've  spoiled  my  flowers : 

Oh !    please,  I  want  my  mother." 

"  But  what's  your  mother's  name,  and  what's 

The  street  ?    Now  think  a  minute." 
"  My  mother's  name  is  Mother  Dear, 

The  street  —  I  can't  begin  it." 
"  But  what  is  strange  about  the  house, 

Or  new  —  not  like  the  others  ?  " 
"  I  guess  you  mean  my  trundle-bed  — 

Mine  and  my  little  brother's. 

''  Oh,  dear  !    I  ought  to  be  at  home 

To  help  him  say  his  prayers : 
He's  such  a  baby,  he  forgets ; 

And  we  are  both  such  players ; 
And  there's  a  bar  between  to  keep 

From  pitching  on  each  other, 
For  Harry  rolls  when  he's  asleep : 

Oh,  dear  !    I  want  my  mother." 

The  sky  grew  stormy,  people  passed, 
All  muffled,  homeward  faring. 


24 


FOURTH  READER. 


"  You'll  have  to  spend  the  night  with  me" 

I  said  at  las'fr,  despairing. 
I  tied  a  kerchief  round  her  neck  — 

"  What  ribbon's  this,  my  blossom  ? " 
"  Why,  don't  you  know  ?  "  she  smiling  said. 
And  drew  it  from  her  bosom. 


A  card  with  number,  street,  and  name ! 

My  eyes  astonished  met  it ; 
"For,"  said  the  little  one,  "you  see 

I  might  sometime  forget  it. 
And  so  I  wear  a  little  thing 

That  tells  you  all  about  it ; 
For  mother  says  she's  very  sure 

I  should  get  lost  without  it." 

Marian  Douglass. 


Home  faring.  —  Going  towards 
home. 

Aimlessly.  —  Not  going  anywhere 
in  particular. 

Soughing.  —  Making  a  soft  sigh- 
ing sound. 

Cherished.  —  Held  lovingly. 

Confidential.  —  Trusting  another 
with  a  secret. 

Scared.  —  Frightened. 

Astonished.  —  Surprised. 


Trundle-bed.  —  A  bed  that  moves 
on  trundles,  or  little  wheels. 

Despairing.  —  Giving  up  hope. 

Kerchief.  —  Short  for  cover-chief. 
The  word  first  meant  a  little 
square  scarf  to  tie  over  the  head 
or  "  chief."  We  now  generally 
say  "  handkerchief." 

Muffled.  —  Wrapped  up. 

Flaring,  —  Burning  brightly  but 
unsteadily. 


How  many  lines  are  there  in  each  stanza,  and  which  lines  rhyme 
in  each  ? 


THE    STOKY    OF    THE   AMBER   BEADS.  25 


VII. 

ex-pos-ure  en-cased         pos-ses-sion  im-bed-ded 

pro-tec-tion         puz-zled  ac-ci-dent-al  snood 

ex-ude  ooz-ing  sur-round-ed  se-cure-ly 


THE    STORY    OF   THE    AMBER    BEADS. 

1.  I  know  a  little  Scotch  girl.  She  lives 
among  the  Highlands  of  Scotland.  Her  home  is 
hardly  more  than  a  hut ;  her  food,  broth  and 
bread.  Her  father  keeps  sheep  on  the  hillsides, 
and  instead  of  wearing  a  coat,  wraps  himself  in 
his  plaid  for  protection  against  the  cold  winds 
that  drive  before  them  great  clouds  of  mist  and 
snow  among  the  mountains. 

2.  As  for  Jeanie  herself,  her  yellow  hair  is 
bound  about  with  a  little  snood ;  her  face  is 
browned  by  exposure  to  the  weather,  and  her 
hands  are  hardened  by  work ;  for  she  helps  her 
mother  to  cook  and  sew,  to  spin  and  weave.  One 
treasure  little  Jeanie  has,  which  many  a  lady 
would  be  proud  to  wear.  It  is  a  necklace  of 
amber  beads. 

3.  You  have  perhaps  seen  amber,  and  know  its 
rich  sunshiny  color,  and  its  fragrance  when 
rubbed ;  and  do  you  also  know  that  rubbing  will 
make  amber  attract  things  to  itself  somewhat  as  a 


26  FOURTH    READER. 

magnet  does  ?  Each  bead  had  inside  of  it  some- 
thing tiny,  encased  as  if  it  had  grown  in  the 
amber. 

4.  Jeanie  is  never  tired  of  looking  at  and  won- 
dering about  them.  Here  is  one  with  a  delicate 
bit  of  ferny  moss  shut  up,  as  it  were,  in  a  globe  of 
yellow  light.  In  another  is  the  tiniest  fly,  his  lit- 
tle wings  outspread  and  raised  for  flight.  Again, 
she  can  show  us,  lodged  in  one  bead  that  looks 
like  solid  honey,  a  bee ;  and  a  little  bright-winged 
beetle  in  another.  This  one  holds  two  slender 
pine-needles  lying  across  each  other,  and  here  we 
see  a  single  scale  of  a  pine-cone  ;  while  yet  another 
shows  an  atom  of  an  acorn-cup,  fit  for  a  fairy's 
use. 

5.  I  wish  you  could  see  the  beads,  for  I  cannot 
tell  you  the  half  of  their  beauty. 

Now  where  do  you  suppose  they  came  from,  and 
how  did  little  Scotch  Jeanie  come  into  possession 
of  such  a  treasure  ? 

6.  Old  Kenneth,  Jeanie's  grandfather,  who  now 
sits  all  day  in  the  chimney  corner,  years  ago, 
when  he  was  a  young  lad,  once  went  down  to  the 
seashore  after  a  great  storm  hoping  to  help  save 
something  from  the  wreck  of  the  Gosliaivh,  that 
had  gone  ashore  during  the  night.     Among  the 


THE    STORY    OF    THE    AMBER   BEADS.  27 

slippery  seaweeds,  his  foot  accidentally  uncovered 
a  clear,  shining  lump  of  amber,  in  which  all  these 
creatures  were  imbedded. 

7.  Now  Kenneth  loved  a  pretty  Highland  lass, 
and  when  she  promised  to  be  his  bride,  he  brought 
her  a  necklace  of  amber  beads.  He  had  carved 
them  himself  out  of  his  lump  of  amber,  working 
carefully  to  save  in  the  centre  of  each  bead  the 
prettiest  insect  or  moss,  and  thinking,  while  he 
toiled  hour  after  hour,  of  the  delight  with  which 
he  should  see  his  bride  wear  them. 

8.  That  bride  was  Jeanie's  grandmother,  and 
when  she  died  last  year,  she  said,  "Let  little 
Jeanie  have  my  amber  beads,  and  wear  them  as 
long  as  she  lives." 

What  puzzled  Jeanie  was  how  the  amber  came 
to  be  on  the  seashore  ;  and  most  of  all,  how  the 
bees  and  mosses  came  inside  of  it.  Should  you 
like  to  know  ?  If  you  would,  that  is  one  of 
Mother  Nature's  stories,  and  she  will  gladly  tell 
it.  

9.  Here  is  what  she  answers  to  our  questions :  — 
"  I  remember  a  time  long,  long  before  you  were 

born,  —  long  even  before  men  were  living  on  the 
earth,  —  these  Scotch  Highlands,  as  you  call  them, 


28  FOURTH   READER. 

were  covered  with  forests.  There  were  oaks, 
poplars,  beeches,  and  pines ;  and  among  them, 
one  kind  of  pine,  tall  and  stately,  from  which 
a  yellow,  shining  gum  flowed,  just  as  you  have 
seen  little  sticky  drops  exude  from  our  own  pine- 
trees. 

10.  '^  This  beautiful  yellow  gum  was  fragrant, 
and  as  the  thousands  of  little  insects  fluttered  about 
it,  in  the  warm  sunshine,  they  were  attracted  by 
its  pleasant  odor,  perhaps,  too,  by  its  taste,  — 
and  having  alighted,  they  stuck  fast,  and  could 
not  get  away.  The  great  yellow  dr6ps,  oozing 
out,  surrounded,  and  at  last  covered  them  entirely. 

11.  "  So,  too,  wind-blown  bits  of  moss,  leaves, 
acorns,  cones,  and  little  sticks,  were  soon  securely 
imbedded  in  the  fast-flowing  gum ;  and,  as  time 
went  by,  it  hardened  and  hardened  more  and 
more  —  and  this  is  amber." 

"  That  is  well  told,  Mother  Nature,  but  it  does 
not  explain  how  Kenneth's  lump  of  amber  came 
to  be  on  the  seashore." 

12.  Wait,  then,  for  the  second  part  of  the  story. 
"  Did  you  ever  hear  that  in  those  very  old  times, 

the  land  sometimes  sank  down  so  deep  that  the 
water  covered  it,  even  to  the  mountain  tops,  and 
what  had  been  land  became  deep  sea  ? 


THE    STORY    OF    THE    AMBER    BEADS. 


29 


13.  "  You  can  hardly  believe  it ;  yet  I  myself  was 
there  to  see,  and  I  remember  well  when  the  great 
forests  of  the  North  of  Scotland  —  the  oaks,  the 
poplars,  and  the  amber  pines  — were  lowered  into 
the  deep  sea. 

14.  "  There,  lying  at  the  bottom  of  the  ocean,  the 
wood  and  the  gum  hardened  like  stone,  and  only 
the  great  storms  can  disturb  them,  as  they  lie 
buried  in  the  sand." 

15.  It  was  one  of  those  great  storms  that 
brought  Kenneth's  lump  of  amber  to  land. 

If  we  could  only  walk  on  the  bottom  of  the  sea, 
what  treasures  we  might  find ! 

Miss  Andrews, 

Author  of  ^^  Seven  Little  Sisters" 


Plaid.  —  An  over-garment,  worn 
by  the  Highlanders  of  Scotland. 
It  is  of  striped  or  variegated 
cloth,  and  reaches  to  the  knees, 
or,  in  cold  weather,  to  the  feet. 

Snood.  —  A  band  or  ribbon,  worn 
to  hold  the  hair  6f  girls  or 
young  women. 

Magnet.  —  A  kind  of  iron  ore,  has 
the  power  of  drawing  other  iron 
objects   to   itself;   it   is   called 


loadstone,  and  the  same  power 
may  be  given  to  a  bar  of  iron 
or  steel,  which  is  then  called  a 
magnet. 
To  ooze,  or  exude,  is  to  flow  very 
gently  through  openings  which 
are  so  small  as  hardly  to  be 
seen.  The  flow  of  perspiration 
through  the  pores  of  the  skin  is 
an  example. 


Write  in  a  simple  way  how  each  bead  came  to  have  at  its  centre 
some  pretty  form. 


30  FOURTH  READER. 

« 

VIII. 

•     o'er- top-ping  trudg-ing  gyp-By 


HOP-PICKING. 

Under  my  window^  at  six  o'clock, 
When  all  were  asleep  as  sound  as  a  rock, 
Nothing  awake  but  the  stable  cock, 

Who  crowed  without  stopping; 
I  heard  a  troop  of  the  hoppers  pass  — 
Child,  old  woman,  and  boy  and  lass  — 
Trudging  over  the  long  wet  grass, 

All  going  a-hopping. 

I  know  the  hop  garden,  fresh  and  green, 
Where,  month  after  month,  the  hops  we've  seen 
Climbing  the  tall  poles,  and  between. 

In  beautiful  wreaths  down  dropping. 
I  know  the  gate,  where,  if  you'll  stand, 
You'll  see  the  hop-pickers  in  a  band. 
Loud  and  merry,  ragged  and  tann'd. 

Spread  over  the  field  a-hopping. 

Who'll  turn  out  of  their  early  beds, 
Pat  on  old  frocks,  old  hats  on  their  heads, 
And  before  the  sun  his  hot  beams  sheds 
The  eastern  hill  o'er-topping, 


LEARNING   TO    SWIM. 


31 


Who'll  come  and  spend  the  morning  gay. 
In  gypsy  fashion  —  half  work,  half  play  — 
Who'll  go  a-hopping  ? 

Author  of^^  John  Halifax.^ 


Hops  are  grown  both  in  England 
and  the  United  States.  In  Cen- 
tral New  York  there  are  great 
fields  of  them.  In  the  spring 
the  vines  are  trained  on  tall 
poles,  and  they  become  great 
masses  of  beautiful  green.  Sep- 
tember is   the   time   when   the 


flowers  are  ready  to  be  gath- 
ered. They  are  used  in  brew- 
ing and  as  medicine. 
Gypsies.  —  A  race  of  people  who 
wander  from  place  to  place, 
living  in  tents,  doing  only  so 
much  work  as  is  needful  to 
supply  their  daily  wants. 


3i*<C 


IX. 


sep-a-ra-ted 

op-po-site 

o-ver-board 


cap-sized 

sh-ud-dered 

fa-mous-ly 


com-pan-ion 

per-ceived 

tLol-lowed 


rec-ol-lec-tion 

im-por-tant 

sliel-tered 


LEARNING  TO    SWIM. 

1.  "Toby,"  said  Digby  Heathcote,  "I  want  to 
learn  how  to  swim." 

"  Then  come  along,  master,"  replied  the  old 
man ;  and  they  rowed  across  to  a  quiet  little  bay, 
with  a  sandy  shore,  sheltered  by  rocks,  on  the  side 
of  the  river  opposite  the  town.  "  Pull  off  your 
clothes,  master,"  said  Toby,  as  they  were  still 
some  little  way  from  the  shore. 

2.  Digby  did  as  he  was  bid.     "  Now  jump  over- 


32  FOURTH    READER. 

board/'  added  Toby.  Digby  stood  up,  but  as  he 
looked  into  the  water  and  could  see  no  bottom, 
he  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  plunging  in. 
Toby  passed  a  band  round  his  waist  with  a  rope 
to  it,  but  Digby  had  hardly  perceived  this  —  he 
felt  himself  pushed,  and  over  he  went,  heels  over 
head,  under  the  water. 

3.  "  Oh,  I'm  drowning,  I'm  drowning ! "  he 
cried  out,  when  he  came  to  the  surface. 

"  Oh,  no,  you're  not,  master,  you're  all  right," 
said  the  old  man.  "  Strike  out  for  the  shore,  and 
see  if  you  can't  swim  there." 

Digby  did  strike  out,  but  wildly,  and  not  in  a 
way  that  would  have  kept  him  afloat. 

4.  "  That's  the  way  you'd  have  done  if  the  boat 
was  capsized,  and  you'd  have  drowned  yourself 
and  any  one  who  came  to  help  you,"  remarked 
Toby 3  "but  catch  hold  of  this  oar.  Now  strike 
away  with  your  feet,  right  astern ;  not  out  of  the 
water  though ;  keep  them  lower  down. 

5.  "That's  the  way  to  go  ahead.  Steady, 
though;  strike  both  of  them  together.  Slow, 
though,  slower.  We're  in  no  hurry  —  there's 
plenty  of  time ;  you  can  learn  the  use  of  your 
hands  another  day.  Draw  your  legs  well  under 
you.     Now,  as  I  give  the  word,  strike  out,  draw 


LEARNING   TO    SWIM.  33 

up.     That  will  do  famously.     If  you  keep  steadily 
at  it,  you'll  learn  to  swim  in  a  very  few  days." 

6.  Digby  felt  rather  tired  when  he  and  the  boat  at 
length  reached  the  shore.  He  had  some  notion  that 
he  had  towed  her  there,  which  he  had  not,  though. 
He  had  learned  an  important  part  in  the  art  of 
swimming.  When  he  came  out  of  the  water,  and 
had  dressed,  Toby  showed  him  how  to  use  his  hands. 

7.  "  Now,  Master  Heathcote,  look  here.  Do  as 
I  do."  Toby  put  his  hands  together,  with  the 
fingers  straight  out  and  close  to  each  other,  and 
the  palms  slightly  hollowed.  Then  he  brought 
them  up  to  his  breast,  and  darting  them  forward, 
separated  his  hands  and  pressed  them  backwards 
till  he  brought  his  elbows  down  to  the  hips,  close 
to  his  body,  and  again  turned  his  wrists  till  his 
hands  once  more  got  back  to  the  position  with 
which  he  had  started. 

8.  He  made  Digby  do  this  again  and  again,  till 
he  was  quite  eager  to  jump  into  the  water  and 
put  his  knowledge  into  practice. 

9.  "No,  no,  master,"  said  Toby,  "you've  had 
bathing  enough  to-day.  Just  you  keep  on  doing 
those  movements  whenever  you  have  a  spare 
moment,  and  to-morrow  we'll  see  how  well  you 
can  do  them  in  the  water." 


34  FOURTH    READER. 

10.  Digby  was  certain  that  not  only  would  he 
do  them  perfectly,  but  that  he  should  be  able  to 
swim  any  distance.  Toby  said  nothing,  but  his 
nose  curled  up  in  its  quiet  funny  way. 

11.  The  next  day  was  very  fine,  and  all  the 
boys  came  down  to  bathe,  and  to  see  Digby 
swim,  as  he  boasted  he  could  do  perfectly  well. 
They  crossed  over  to  the  bay,  all  of  them  getting 
ready  for  a  plunge. 

12.  "Now  Digby,"  cried  Marshall,  when  they 
got  near  the  shore,  "  overboard  we  go." 

"  All  right,"  cried  Digby,  putting  his  hands  into 
the  correct  position  as  far  as  he  could  remember 
it;  and,  with  great  courage,  he  jumped  into  the 
water. 

13.  Somehow  or  other,  he  could  not  tell  why, 
down  he  went  some  way  under  the  surface,  and 
when  he  came  up  he  had  forgotten  all  about  the 
way  to  strike  out  which  Toby  had  taught  him. 
Instead  of  that  he  flung  about  his  arms  and 
kicked  his  legs  out  in  the  wildest  manner,  and 
would  have  gone  down  again  had  not  Marshall 
swam  up  alongside  him,  and  putting  his  hand 
under  his  chin,  told  him  to  keep  perfectly  quiet 
till  he  had  collected  his  senses. 

14.  He  had  courage  enough  to  do  this,  and  was 


LEARNING   TO    SWIM.  35 

surprised  to  iind   himself  floating  on  the  surface 
of  the  water  with  so  little  support. 

'^ Bravo,  Master  Marshall/'  cried  Toby.  "Now 
strike  out,  Master  Heathcote,  as  I  showed  you." 

15.  The  recollection  of  how  to  strike  out  came 
back  to  Digby,  and  to  his  great  delight  he  found 
himself  making  some  progress  towards  the  shore, 
his  friend  still  holding  him  up  by  the  chin. 

"  Let  me  go,  I  am  sure  I  can  swim  alone,"  he 
cried. 

16.  Marshall  did  so,  but,  after  a  few  strokes, 
down  he  went,  and  again  he  forgot  what  he 
had  done  so  well  on  dry  land.  His  feet,  how- 
ever, touched  the  bottom,  and,  hopping  on  one 
leg,  he  went  on,  striking  out  with  his  hands,  and 
fancying  that  he  was  swimming,  till  he  reached 
the  shore. 

17.  His  companions,  of  course,  laughed  at  him, 
but  he  did  not  mind  that,  and  running  in  again, 
he  made  one  or  two  more  successful  attempts,  but 
he  did  not  boast  any  more  of  the  distance  he  was 
going  to  swim.  When  once  again  he  had  gone 
out  till  the  water  reached  his  chin,  he  found  the 
boat  close  to  him. 

18.  "Don't  be  swimming  any  more,  Master 
Heathcote,  but  give  me  your  hand,"  said  Toby, 


36 


FOUETH  READER. 


taking  it.  "  There,  now  throw  yourself  on  your 
back,  stick  your  legs  out,  put  your  head  back  as 
far  as  it  will  go ;  now  don't  move,  let  your  arms 
hang  down.  There,  I'll  hold  you  steady  j  a 
feather  would  do  it.  Now  you  feel  how  the 
water  keeps  you  up. 

19.  "  There,  you  might  stay  there  for  an  hour, 
or  a  dozen  hours  for  that  matter,  if  it  wasn't  for 
the  cold,  in  smooth  water.  You'll  learn  to  swim 
in  a  very  few  days  now,  I  see,  without  your 
clothes,  and  then  you  must  learn  with  your 
clothes  on.  If  I  couldn't  have  done  that,  I 
should  not  have  been  here;  I  should  have  been 
drowned  long  ago." 

20.  Thus  talking,  the  old  man  let  Digby  float 
by  the  side  of  the  boat  till  he  had  been  long 
enough  in  the  water,  and  then  he  helped  him 
out  and  made  him  dress  quickly. 


Perceived.  —  Noticed. 
Capsized.  —  Upset. 
Shuddered.  —  Shook   and  trem- 
bled. 
Astern.  —  Backwards. 
Put   his   knowledge  into   prac- 


tice. —  Show  that    he   could   do 

what  he  had  learned. 
Collected  his   senses.  —  Gained 

presence   of    mind,  or,  become 
.    quiet  enough   to   think. 
Sheltered.  —  Protected. 


Which  paragraphs  of  the  lesson  give  directions  for  swimming? 
Make  the  motions  with  the  hands  that  Digby  was  to  practice. 
How  was  he  to  place  himself  for  floating? 


HOW    TO    MAKE    THE    BEST    OF    IT.  37 


X. 

peas-ant  on-ions  fer-ret-ing  mea-ger 

de-li-cious  di-o-cese  ac-quaint-ance  shrieked 


HOW  TO  MAKE  THE   BEST  OF  IT. 

1.  Robinet,  a  peasant  of  Lorraine,  after  a  hard 
day's  work  at  the  next  market-town,  was  runnhig 
home  with  a  basket  in  his  hand.  "  What  a  deli- 
cious supper  I  shall  have,"  said  he  to  himself. 
"This  piece  of  kid,  well  stewed  down,  with  my 
onions  sliced,  thickened  with  my  meal,  and  sea- 
soned with  my  salt  and  pepper,  will  make  a  dish 
fit  for  the  bishop  of  the  diocese.  Then  I  have  a 
good  piece  of  barley  loaf  at  home  to  finish  with. 
How  I  long  to  be  at  it !  " 

2.  A  noise  in  the  hedge  now  attracted  his 
notice,  and  he  spied  a  squirrel  nimbly  running 
up  a  tree,  and  popping  into  a  hole  between  the 
branches.  "Ha!"  thought  he,  "what  a  nice 
present  a  nest  of  young  squirrels  will  be  to  my 
little  master!  I'll  try  if  I  can  get  it."  Upon 
this,  he  set  down  his  basket  in  the  road,  and 
began  to  climb  up  the  tree.  He  had  half  ascend- 
ed, when  casting  a  look  at  his  basket,  he  saw  a 
dog  with  his  nose  in  it,  ferreting  out  the  piece  of 


38 


FOURTH  READER. 


kid's  flesh.  He  made  all  possible  speed  down,  but 
the  dog  was  too  quick  for  him,  and  ran  off  with 
the  meat  in  his  mouth.     Robinet  looked  after  him 


—  "Well,"   said  he,  "then  I  must  be  contented 
with  soup-meagre  —  and  no  bad  thing  neither." 

3.  He  travelled  on,  and  came  to  a  little  public- 
house  by  the  road  side,  where  an  acquaintance  of 
his  was  sitting  on  a  bench.  Robinet  seated  him- 
self by  his  friend,  and  set  his  basket  on  the  bench 
close  by  him.     A  tame  raveu;  which  was  kept  at 


HOW   TO   MAKE    THE   BEST    OF    IT.  39 

the  house,  came  slyly  behind  him,  and  perching 
on  the  basket,  stole  away  the  bag  in  which  the 
meal  was  tied  up,  and  hopped  off  with  it  to  his 
hole. 

4.  Robinet  did  not  perceive  the  theft  till  he  had 
got  on  his  way  again.  He  returned  to  search  for 
his  bag,  but  could  hear  no  tidings  of  it.  "Well," 
says  he,  "  my  soup  will  be  the  thinner,  but  I  will 
boil  a  slice  of  bread  with  it,  and  that  will  do  it 
some  good  at  least." 

5.  He  went  on  again,  and  arrived  at  a  little 
brook,  over  which  was  laid  a  narrow  plank.  A 
young  woman  coming  up  to  pass  at  the  time, 
Eobinet  gallantly  offered  his  hand.  Either 
through  fear  or  sport,  as  soon  as  she  was  got 
to  the  middle,  she  shrieked  out  and  cried  she 
was   falling. 

6.  Eobinet,  hastening  to  support  her  with  his 
other  hand,  let  his  basket  drop  into  the  stream. 
As  soon  as  she  was  safe  over,  he  jumped  in  and 
recovered  it,  but  when  he  took  it  out,  he  perceived 
that  all  the  salt  was  melted,  and  the  pepper 
washed   away. 

7.  Nothing  was  now  left  but  the  onions.  "Well," 
says  Eobinet,  "then  I  must  sup  to-night  upon 
roasted  onions  and  barley  bread.     Last  night  I 


40 


FOUKTH  READER. 


had  the  bread  alone.  To-morrow  morning  it  will 
not  signify  what  I  had."  So  saying,  he  trudged 
on,  singing  as  before. 


Evenings  at  Home. 


Diocese.  —  The  district  that  a 
bishop  has  charge  of  in  mat- 
ters of  religion. 

Attracted.  —  Drawn  to. 

Ferreting.  —  Picking  out,  as  a 
ferret  (kind  of  weasel)  does. 

Acquaintance.  —  A  person  he 
knew. 

Tidings.  —  News. 


Meagre  (meger).  —  Thin,  poor. 

Support.  —  Hold  up,  sustain. 

Recovered.  —  Got  again,  rescued. 

Signify.  —  Matter,  be  of  impor- 
tance. 

Lorraine.  —  A  province,  formerly 
of  France,  but  now  under  the 
government  of  Germany. 

Gallantly. — Courteously,  politely. 


>5«4c 


XI. 


rough, 
au-tumn 


pa-tience 
grudge 


be-longed 
h.eath.-er 


me-mo-ry 
neigli-bor 


THE   EAGLE'S   NEST.  — Part   I. 

1.  '^  Father,  father,  it  is  going  to  be  a  splendid 
day,"  cried  Donald  Mac  Ian,  as  he  opened  the 
door  of  his  little  cottage  home,  high  among  the 
mountains. 

The  first  rays  of  the  sun  were  just  touching 
the  top  of  Ben  More,  the  great  mountain  above 
the  little  house,  and  made  the  purple  heather 
brighten.  There  was  not  a  cloud  to  be  seen  in 
all  the  sky. 


THE   EAGLE  S  NEST. 


41 


2.  "  That  is  well,  Donald/'  answered  his  father, 
"  for  I  have  a  long  way  to  take  to-day,  to  visit 
my  cousin,  and  the  walk  seems  but  half  as  long 


on  a  fine  day.  Come,  Donald,  let  the  goats  out, 
and  look  after  Brown  Kate,  the  cow.  We  will 
milk  her  quickly,  and  breakfast  before  I  start." 

3.  "  Oh !  Brown  Kate  is  quite  close,"  said  Don- 
ald.    "  I  just  saw  her  come  past  neighbor  Morse's 


42  FOUKTII    KEADEK. 

house,  along  the  valley.  She  is  as  clever  as  a 
woman,  and  knows  well  that  we  want  our  break- 
fast. But  what  is  going  to  happen  now  ?  Neigh- 
bor Morse  is  driving  Brown  Kate  into  his  own 
cow-house ! 

4.  "Neighbor,  neighbor!"  cried  Donald,  putting 
his  hands  to  his  mouth  as  a  trumpet ;  "  that  is  our 
cow.     Do  you  hear  ?     That  is  Brown  Kate." 

"  Oh !  I  hear,"  answered  a  rough  voice  from 
below.  "But  I  have  a  fancy  for  this  cow,  and 
I  mean  to  keep  her.  You  can  tell  your  father 
that  if  he  wants  her  he  may  come  and  fetch  her." 

5.  "Father!"  shouted  Donald,  who  was  still 
standing  in  the  doorway ;  "  neighbor  Morse  says 
he  is  going  to  keep  Brown  Kate.  Do  come  out 
and  stop  him.", 

Duncan  Mac  Ian  came  out  quickly,  and  saw 
that,  as  Donald  had  said,  his  neighbor  was  driv- 
ing the  cow  into  his  own  cow-house. 

"What's  the  meaning  of  this,  John  Morse?"  he 
shouted. 

6.  "You  don't  seem  to  understand,"  returned 
the  other.  "  You  have  quite  forgotten,  no  doubt, 
that  you  owe  me  forty  shillings  ever  since  last 
winter,  and  that  you  promised,  for  the  tenth  time, 
to  pay  me  yesterday.      As   your   memory   is    so 


THE    eagle's   NESl.  43 

short,  I  am  just  going  to  keep  the  cow  to  remind 
you.  She  can  come  on  a  visit  to  my  cows  until 
I  see  my  forty  shillings  again." 

7.  Duncan  Mac  Ian  frowned,  and  bit  his  lip. 
"You  know  well,"  he  said,  "that  I  could  not 
pay  you.  My  good  wife's  illness  and  death  took 
all  my  little  savings.  But  you  know,  too,  that  I 
am  an  honest  man,  and  you  need  not  be  so  hard 
upon  me.  That  is  not  being  a  good  neighbor, 
John." 

8.  "  Neighbor,  indeed ! "  growled  John  Morse. 
"  The  cow  is  mine  till  I  get  my  money." 

With  these  words  he  turned  away,  and  went 
into  his  snug  white  house. 

9.  "  Father,"  said  Donald,  in  a  vexed  tone, 
when  John  Morse  was  no  longer  to  be  seen ; 
"  have  you  to  put  up  with  that  ?  I  would  not 
bear  it,  if  I  were  you." 

"Hush,  my  laddie!  "  said  his  father.  "  I  grant 
you  it  is  not  nice  or  kind  of  John  Morse  to  be 
so  hard  upon  his  poorer  neighbor ;  but  he  can  do 
what  he  pleases^  for  I  owe  him  the  money.  That 
I  cannot  deny. 

10.  "  If  it  had  been  possible,  I  would  have  paid 
him  long,  long  ago ;  but  your  poor  mother's 
illness  and  death  made  it  quite  out  of  the  ques- 


44  FOURTH   READER. 

tion.  Patience,  patience !  My  cousin  will  lend 
me  the  forty  shillings  if  I  ask  him,  and  then 
John  Morse  must  give  up  our  dear  Brown  Kate. 
To-morrow  we  will  have  her  back." 

11.  "  That  we  willy  father/'  the  boy  said,  firmly. 
"We  must  and  will  have  her  back.  This  very 
day  he  shall  give  her  up.  Shame  upon  the  rich 
man!     What  makes  him  behave  in  this  way?" 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  replied  his  father.  "  He  has 
coveted  Brown  Kate  for  a  long  time,  because  she 
is  the  best  cow  for  miles  round.  Last  autumn  he 
offered  me  a  good  price  for  her,  and,  because  I 
did  not  take  it,  he  has  a  grudge  against  me." 

12.  "Well,  you  go  on  your  way,  father,"  said 
Donald.  "  I  will  get  the  good  cow  back  to-day. 
I  say  I-  will,  and  you  know  if  I  say  a  thing  I 
mean  it."     His  father  smiled. 

"What  pranks  have  you  in  your  head,  laddie?" 
he  asked.  "For  pity's  sake  do  not  have  high 
words  with  John  Morse.  You  will  only  make 
the  matter  ten  times  worse.  Don't  do  anything 
rash,  Donald." 

13.  "Do  I  look  as  if  I  would?"  said  Donald, 
drawing  himself  to  his  full  height.  Duncan  Mac 
Ian  looked  with  pleasure  and  pride  at  his  boy's 
tall,  well-made  figure. 


THE    EAGLE  S    NEST. 


45 


"  Well,  you  are  a  child  no  longer,"  said  he. 
"You  are  sixteen  years  old,  Donald,  and  the 
mountain  air  has  made  you  strong  and  sturdy. 
But  I  should  like  to  know  what  you  have  in  your 
mind." 

14.  "  But  I  should  like  not  to  tell  you,  daddy," 
said  Donald.  "It  is  nothing  wrong.  Will  that 
set  your  mind  at  rest  ?  " 

"  Well,  well,  if  it  is  nothing  wrong ;  and  now 
I  must  be  gone,"  said  Duncan,  who  had  been 
eating  a  little  oat  cake,  which  was  very  dry 
without  Brown  Kate's  milk.  "Now  remember, 
Donald,"  he  said,  as  he  went  out,  "no  pranks, 
if  you  please." 


Heather.  —  A  shrub  bearing  beau- 
tiful flowers,  and  keeping  green 
all  the  year;  used  in  Scotland 
for  baskets,  brooms,  etc. 

To  put  up  with.  —  To  bear  with- 
out complaint. 

Sturdy.  —  Hardy,  robust. 

Ben.  —  Used  before  the  name  of 
a  mountain,  is  the  same  as 
mount  in   our   country. 

Clever.  —  Wise. 


Out  of  the  question.  —Not  to  be 

thought  of,  impossible. 
Coveted.  — Desired  very  much. 
A   grudge.  —  111  will  because  of 

some    advantage  possessed   by 

another. 
Mac   is   common  before    Scotch 

surnames. 
Donald  and  Duncan  are  common 

Scotch  christian  names. 


GENERAI.    KNOWI.EDGE. 


Find  out  all  you  can  about  Scotland  and  the  ways  of  Scotch 
people. 


46 


FOURTH  READER. 


pinch.-ing 


XII. 

scan-ty  rus-set 


"Wheat-stack 


ROBIN    REDBREAST. 
Good-by,  good-by  to  Summer, 
For  Summer's  nearly  done ; 
The  garden  smiling  faintly, 
Cool  breezes  in  the  sun; 
Our  thrushes  now  are  silent, 
Our  swallows  flown  away, 
But  Robin's  here,  in  coat  of  brown, 
With  ruddy  breast-knot  gay. 
Robin,  Robin  Redbreast, 

0  Robin  dear! 
Robin  singing  sweetly 

In  the  falling  of  the  year. 


ROBIN   REDBREAST.  47 

Bright  yellow,  red,  and  orange, 

The  leaves  come  down  in  hosts; 
The  trees  are  Indian  Princes, 

But  soon  they'll  turn  to  ghosts; 
The  scanty  pears  and  apples 

Hang  russet  on  the  bough ; 
It's  Autumn,  Autumn,  Autumn  late, 
'  Twill  soon  be  Winter  now. 
Robin,  Robin  Redbreast, 

0  Robin  dear ! 
And  what  will  this  poor  Robin  do. 
For  pinching  days  are  near  ? 

The  fireside  for  the  cricket. 

The  wheatstack  for  the  mouse, 
When  trembling  night- winds  whistle 

And  moan  all  round  the  house ; 
The  frosty  ways  like  iron. 

The  branches  plumed  with  snow,  — 
Alas  !  in  Winter  dead  and  dark. 
Where  can  poor  Robin  go  ? 
Robin,  Robin  Redbreast, 

0  Robin  dear ! 
And  a  crumb  of  bread  for  Robin, 
His  little  heart  to  cheer. 

W.  Allingham. 


48  FOURTH   READER. 


XIII. 

dai-ry  En-glisb.-maii  sal-mon  prec-i-pice 

ea-glet  sov-er-eign  dan-ger-ous  ear-nest 


THE    EAGLE'S    NEST.  — Part  II. 

1.  Donald  watched  his  father  climb  the  moun- 
tain. "  It  is  nothing  wrong,  but  it  is  no  small 
matter  either  that  I  have  in  hand/'  he  said  to 
himself.     "  But  now  I  must  see  to  the  goats." 

2.  The  goats  came  at  his  call.  Donald  milked 
them,  and  put  the  milk  in  pans  in  a  cool  little 
dairy.  He  took  a  small  axe,  and  put  it  in  his 
belt,  and  a  sharp  knife  in  his  pocket;  put  some 
bread  and  a  bottle  of  goat's  milk  in  a  leather 
bag,  and  took  in  his  hand  a  strong  stick  with 
a  sharp  iron  point.  Then  he  looked  for  a  piece 
of  strong  cord,  and  went  out  of  the  cottage. 

3.  Away  he  went  quickly  down  the  valley. 
The  sun  was  still  low  in  the  east,  but  he  had 
some  distance  to  go,  and  he  whistled  or  sang  as 
he  went  along,  till  he  came  to  a  little  inn,  from 
which  there  was  a  splendid  view  over  the  moun- 
tains. 

4.  "Good  morning,  Donald  Mac  Ian,"  said  a 
waiter  who  was  going  in  and  out,  getting  break- 


THE  eagle*s  nest.  49 

fast   ready.      "Are   you   come   to   go   fishing   or 
shooting  with   the   English   gentlemen   to-day?" 

5.  "  No,  I  am  not ;  but  I  want  to  see  the  Eng- 
lish gentleman  that  came  last  week  —  Dr.  Mayne, 
I  mean,"  said  Donald. 

"  Here  he  comes,"  said  the  waiter,  as  a  gentle- 
man came  down  stairs  calling  loudly  for  his  break- 
fast. 

6.  "  Directly,  directly,  sir ! "  cried  the  waiter ; 
and  as  the  gentleman  came  to  the  inn  door 
Donald  touched  his  cap  and  went  to  him.  "  Ah, 
my  man ! "  said  the  Englishman,  "  have  you  come 
to  tell  me  of  another  big  salmon  —  eh  ?  " 

7.  "Not  to-day,  sir,"  said  Donald.  "I  only 
wanted  to  know  if  you  were  in  earnest  the  other 
day,  when  you  said  you  would  gladly  give  a  sov- 
ereign to  any  one  who  would  bring  you  an  eagle's 
nest." 

8.  "An  eagle's  nest?  Yes,  indeed.  But  the 
nest  would  not  be  of  much  use  to  me.  I  want 
the  young  birds." 

9.  "And  I  know  where  there  is  a  nest  with 
young  birds  in  it,"  said  Donald.  "  I  watched  the 
eagles  yesterday  sailing  here  and  there,  and  at 
last  I  tracked  them  out  to  the  wildest  bit  of  all 
our  mountains,  sir." 


50  FOURTH   READER. 

10.  "  Go  and  get  me  them/'  cried  the  English- 
man. "  Get  me  them  as  quickly  as  possible,  and 
I  will  give  you  a  sovereign,  my  boy." 

11.  "  Ah,  but  that  is  just  it !  "  said  Donald, 
quickly.  "1  want  more  than  that;  I  want  two 
sovereigns,  sir.  Then  I  will  risk  any  danger  to 
get  them.     Could  you  give  me  two  sovereigns  ?  " 

The  Englishman  frowned.  "  What !  "  he  said. 
"  So  young,  and  already  so  anxious  for  money !  " 

12.  "No,  sir;  you  mistake  me,"  cried  Donald. 
"  It  is  not  that.  If  it  were  only  for  myself  I 
would  get  you  the  eaglets  gladly,  and  ask  noth- 
ing." 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  the  gentleman  ;  "  and  what 
makes  you  want  money  so  much,  then?" 

13.  Donald  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Then, 
fearing  he  would  lose  the  chance  of  buying  back 
Brown  Kate,  he  told  the  gentleman  his  story. 

"  So  you  are  willing  to  face  the  danger  for  your 
father's  sake  ?  "  said  the  Englishman. 

"Willing,  sir?  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to 
doit." 

14.  "And  is  it  so  very  dangerous?"  asked  the 
gentleman.  Donald  laughed  ;  then  he  said, 
gravely,  — 

"  It    is    dangerous,    sir ;    there    is    no    doubt 


THE    eagle's,  nest.  51 

about  that.  The  only  way  one  can  get  to  the  nest 
is  by  climbing  along  a  narrow  ridge,  like  the  back  of 
a  knife,  with  fearful  precipices  on  both  sides.  But, 
please  God,  I  shall  go  safe,  and  come  back  safe." 

15.  "  Then  you  will  risk  your  life,"  said  the  gen- 
tleman.    "  Well,  then,  bring  me  the  birds,  and  the 


two  sovereigns  are  yours  that  moment."  "Thank 
you,  sir,"  said  Donald,  and  turned  to  go. 

"  Stop,  stop  !  "  cried  the  gentleman.  "  I  wished 
to  try  if  you  really  meant  to  go,  but  I  have 
changed  my  mind.  I  do  not  think  I  care  at  all 
to  have  an  eagle's  nest." 

16.  Donald's  face  fell.  "  Go  home,  my  boy," 
said  his  friend.  "  Go  home  without  broken  bones. 
Ah !  but  you  need  not  look  so  vexed.  You  shall 
have  the  money,  and  I  will  do  without  the  eaglets. 
Here,  take  this." 


52 


FOURTH  READER. 


17.  He  held  two  shining  pieces  of  gold  out  to 
Donald,  who  drew  back.  "  Come,  take  them,"  he 
said,  smiling.  "  I  give  them  gladly.  Take  them 
and  go,  or  I  shall  be  very  angry,  and  not  want  to 
know  about  any  more  salmon." 

At  last  Donald  took  the  money.  He  thanked 
the  kind  friend  most  heartily,  and  then  went 
away. 

18.  He  walked  along  quietly  till  he  was  well 
out  of  hearing  of  the  inn ;  then  he  capered  about, 
and  fairly  shouted  aloud  with  joy. 

"  Oh,  pretty  Brown  Kate,  you  shall  be  ours 
again  to-day  —  you  shall,  you  shall!  Oh,  father, 
how  glad  you  will  be !  "  Then  he  grew  grave 
again.  "But  Dr.  Mayne  must  have  his  eaglets 
too :  that  is  quite  certain,"  he  said  to  himself. 


Directly.  —  Presently,  without  de- 
lay. 

Heartily.  —  Earnestly,  with  all 
the  heart. 

Inn.  —  Home  for  travellers. 

Dairy.  —  The  room  or  place  where 
milk  is  kept,  and  butter  or 
cheese  is  made. 

Eaglets.  —  Young  eagles. 

Sovereign.  —  Twenty  English 
shillings,  or  a  little  less  than 
five  U.  S.  dollars. 


Tracked. —  Followed,  by  watching 
the  way. 

Precipice.  —  A  steep,  rocky  de- 
scent. 

Ridge.  —  The  highest  part  of  a 
range  of  hills  or  mountains. 

Salmon.  —  Those  here  men- 
tioned are  probably  Salmon 
Trout ;  beautiful  fresh-water 
fish  which  are  abundant  in  the 
rivers  of  Scotland.  They  go  up 
from  the  sea  at  spawning  time. 


THE    eagle's    nest.  53 


XIV. 

isth-mus  circ-ling  tlirob-bing  fash.-ion 

stead-i-ly  flushed  al-read-y  climbed 

sud-den-ly  nest-led  bruised  swoop 


THE    EAGLE'S    NEST.  — Part    III. 

1.  It  was  still  early  and  quite  cool  when  Donald 
came  for  the  second  time  out  of  the  cottage ;  but 
this  time  he  did  not  take  the  path  that  goes  down 
into  the  valley.  He  turned  the  other  way,  and 
climbed  steadily  up  the  mountain. 

2.  It  was  steep  enough  to  make  any  one  feel 
quite  out  of  breath ;  but  Donald  had  been  used 
from  a  baby  to  climb  the  steepest  places.  He  did 
not  care,  but  went  on  steadily.  He  stood  at  last 
upon  the  top,  and  looked  back. 

3.  The  mountain  air  blew  fresh  upon  his  flushed 
face.  He  could  see  for  miles  and  miles  over  the 
rolling  mountains,  with  a  river  foaming  among 
them,  and  deep  down  in  the  valleys,  or  nestled  on 
the  hillsides,  he  could  see  the  white  houses,  where 
the  women  were  busy  at  their  work. 

4.  Then  he  turned  and  looked  the  other  way. 
Sharp,  rocky  peaks  rose  before  him.  He  had 
climbed  a  steep  and  high  mountain  already,  but 
he  would  have  to  climb  a  long  way  yet  along 


54  FOURTH    HEADER. 

narrow  ledges,  where,  if  his  head  grew  dizzy  for  a 
moment,  if  he  made  one  false  step,  he  would  most 
certainly  be  killed. 

5.  Then  his  father  would  come  home  and  look 
for  him.  How  lonely  his  father  would  be  if  he 
were  killed  ! 

Worse  still,  he  might  not  be  killed  at  once,  but 
lie  bruised  and  with  broken  bones  at  the  foot  of 
some  great  rock,  where  no  one  could  hear  him  call, 
till  he  died  of  hunger. 

6.  For  a  moment  Donald  thought  of  all  this,  but 
it  was  only  for  a  moment.  Then  he  turned  and 
began  his  climb,  not  in  a  hurry,  but  quietly, 
steadily. 

Often  his  foot  slipped  a  little  upon  the  bare 
rocks  or  the  heather  ;  but  he  fixed  his  sharp  stick 
firmly  into  the  ground  at  every  step  he  took,  and 
went  on  slowly. 

7.  Sometimes  he  had  to  walk  along  a  narrow 
ledge  on  the  side  of  a  fearful  rock,  clinging  to  the 
side  of  the  cliff,  and  knowing  well  that  he  must 
not  look  down  into  the  depths  below,  or  he  would 
certainly  lose  his  head  and  his  footing. 

8.  It  was  very  still  all  round.  He  could  hear 
the  wild  mountain  torrents,  and  the  tinkle  of  a 
goat's  bell    far  away.      Nothing   else  was  to  be 


THE  eagle's  nest.  55 

heard,  except  now  and  then  the  wild  scream  of 
an  eagle,  which  he  could  see  rise  and  sail  high 
in  the  air,  and  then  swoop  suddenly  down  upon 
its  prey. 

9.  Donald  had  now  reached  the  last  and  most 
dangerous  part  of  his  journey.  This  was  an  edge 
of  rock  like  an  isthmus,  which  led  to  the  high, 
flat  place  on  which  one  nest  was  perched,  with 
terrible  depths  surrounding  it  on  every  side  but 
one. 

10.  This  flat  place  the  eagles  had  chosen  for 
their  nest,  and  it  certainly  seemed  that  they  could 
not  have  found  a  better  place  to  protect  them 
from  any  living  enemy. 

11.  To  walk  along  this  ledge  was  hopeless  for 
any  one  but  a  rope-dancer,  and  even  such  a  man 
might  have  trembled  at  the  awful  danger.  But 
Donald  could  creep  on  his  hands  and  knees,  cling- 
ing tightly  to  the  cliff.  For  some  distance  he 
went  on  in  this  fashion,  and,  to  his  great  joy,  he 
could  now  hear  the  hoarse  but  feeble  cries  of  the 
hungry  little  eaglets.  "^ 

12.  This  sound  gave  him  new  strength.  But 
now  he  came  to  a  place  where  he  could  not  even 
creep,  and  the  only  way  to  get  on  was  to  go 
astride.      Donald    did    so,   and   with   great  care 


56  FOURTH    READER. 

moved  on,  while  hope   almost  made  him  forget 
the  peril  he  was  in. 

13.  But  suddenly  a  sound  fell  upon  his  ears, 
which  made  his  heart  for  a  moment  stand  still. 
It  was  a  short,  sharp  cry,  which  seemed  to  come 
from  the  sky  above  him.  Donald  did  not  need  to 
look  up  to  know  that  the  mother-eagle  was  cir- 
cling high  in  the  air  above  him,  as  is  the  custom 
of  those  birds  before  dropping  down  upon  their 
nest. 

14.  He  knew  the  cry  well,  and  he  knew  too 
that,  if  the  mother-eagle  saw  him,  she  would  at- 
tack him  with  her  great  claws  and  beak,  flapping 
her  huge  wings  about  him.  If  she  did  so,  he 
must  he  dashed  from  his  perch,  and  thrown  into 
that  awful  depth,  where  a  dark  mountain  lake 
lay  far,  far  below  him. 

15.  In  a  moment  he  did  the  only  thing  that 
could  be  of  the  least  use :  he  laid  himself  face 
downwards  upon  the  sharp  rock,  keeping  himself 
as  still  as  the  rock  itself,  and  breathing  a  prayer 
to  Heaven  for  help. 

16.  He  could  hear  his  own  heart  beat  so  loudly 
that  he  thought  the  eagle  must  hear  it  too.  But 
in  this  worst  of  dangers  help  came.  The  young 
eaglets,  seeing  their  mother,  set  up  a  loud  scream- 


THE    eagle's    nest.  57 

ing,  and  grew  so  eager  for  their  food,  that  in  a 
moment  she  came  down  upon  the  nest  with  a  fish 
in  her  claws,  which  she  had  just  taken  in  the  lake. 
17.  The  young  ones  fell  upon  their  dinner  at 
once,  and  the  mother,  after  watching  them  for  a 
moment  or  two,  darted  away  again  down  into 
the  valley,  with  the  speed  of  an  arrow. 


Lose  his  head.  —  Grow  dizzy,  and 
so  be  in  danger  of  falling. 

Isthmus.  —  A  narrow  neck  lead- 
ing to  a  broader  place. 


Peril.  —  Danger. 

Custom.  —  Habit, 

False  step.  —  An  unsafe  step. 


^J«<c 


en-tered  virar-bling  roun-de-lay  min-strels 

heav-en-ly  liun-dred  liar-mo-ny  laugli-ter 


THE    LINNET   CHOIR. 
A  linnet  choir  sang  in  a  chestnut  crown,  — 

A  hundred,  p'r'aps,  or  more,  — 
Till  the  stream  of  their  song  ran  warbling  down 

And  entered  a  cottage  door; 
And  this  was  the  burden  of  their  lay. 

As  they  piped  in  the  yellow  tree :  — 
"I  love  my  sweet  little  lady-bird. 

And  I  know  that  she  loves  me : 


58  FOURTH    READER. 

'  Chip,    chip,  cherry  chip,   cherry,  cherry,  cherry 

chip ! ' 
We  linnets  are  a  merry  band, 
A  happy  company." 

It  chanced  a  poet  passed  that  way, 

With  a  quick  and  merry  thought. 
And,  listening  to  the  roundelay. 

His  ear  their  language  caught : 
Quoth  he,  as  he  heard  the  minstrels  sing, 

"What  heavenly  harmony! 
I  shall  steal  that  song,  and  carry  it  home 

To  my  dear  family  — 
'  Chip,  chip,   cherry  chip,  cherry,  cherry,  cherry 

chip!'" 
And  that  song  they  sing  now  every  eve. 

His  children,  wife,  and  he. 

Next  came  a  boy,  with  a  curly  head, 

And  laughter-lighted  eye, 
"  I've  a  cage  at  home,  sweet  birds,"  he  said, 

"  And  I'll  catch  you  by  and  by ; 
My  sister  would  feed  and  love  you  well. 

My  mother  would  happier  be  ; 
Come,  tell  me,"  he  said,  "  my  little  birds, 

Shall  I  take  you  home  with  me  ? 


THE    LINNET    CHOIR. 


59 


'  Chip,   chip,   cherry   chip,   cherry,   cherry,   cherry 

chip ! ' " 
And  all  that  night  the  little  boy  dreamt 

He  heard  the  birds  in  the  tree. 

Edward  Capern. 


Choir  {quire),  —  A  body,  or  com- 
pany, of  singers. 

Lay,  roundelay.  —  Song. 

Burden.  —  Chorus,  refrain. 

Quoth.  —  Said. 

Minstrel.  —  Songster,  musician. 

Harmony.  —  Agreeable  combina- 
tion of  sounds ;  music. 

The   Linnet  is  one  of   the  song 


birds  of  Europe.  Its  voice  is 
not  loud,  but  very  pleasant.  It 
is  a  brown  bird,  except  at  mat- 
ing time,  when  its  crest  and 
breast  feathers  are  bright  red. 
Linnets  thrive  well  in  cages, 
but  never  have  the  bright  colors. 
In  the  United  States  they  are 
only  seen  in  cages. 


A  READING  REVIEW.— For  Expression. 

In  the  fifteen  lessons  you  have  read,  there  have  been  calls  for 
great  changes  of  tone  and  manner.  Reading,  like  talking,  is  much 
more  pleasant  if  the  voice  helps  to  show  the  sense. 

1.  From  His  Sister's  Story,  choose  sentences  to  read  that  show 
Hilda's  tone  when  she  reads  from  her  own  story,  and  when  she 
speaks  to  Fred  on  pages  2,  10,  and  11. 

2.  Read  for  Fred,  in  the  short  sentences  he  uses  to  explain  his 
doings,  as  Hilda  reads. 

3.  Read  from  the  story  of  the  Cat-Rabbit  and  from  the  Eagle's 
Nest  as  if  you  were  telling  a  story  of  your  own,  with  no  book, 
and  let  the  class  judge  whether  you  are  using  your  natural  voice. 

4.  Speak  for  the  lady  and  the  little  girl  in  lines  from  Lesson  VI. 

5.  Lessons  VIII.,  XII.,  and  XV.  should  not  be  read  as  if  they 
were  written  in  prose.  Give  a  slight  musical  ring  to  the  lines,  as 
if  each  poem  had  a  tune  of  its  own  which  you  could  express. 

6.  In  general,  young  readers  need  to  learn  to  drop  their  voices 
in  many  cases  where  there  is  little  if  any  pause. 


60  FOURTH    READER. 


XVI. 

dis-a-bled  strug-gles  ledge  weight 

anx-ious  loos-ened  re-mained  de-scent 

gid-di-ness  tie^^r-ing  frag-ments  h.ead-long 


THE    EAGLE'S    NEST.— Part  IV. 

1.  As  soon  as  the  mother  eagle  was  gone,  Don- 
ald began  to  move  again.  He  was  anxious  to 
reach  the  nest,  and  get  safe  away  with  his  prize 
before  she  could  return,  and  he  could  not  tell  how 
soon  that  might  be. 

He  therefore  went  on  more  quickly  than  was 
really  safe,  and,  as  he  did  so,  he  loosened  from 
the  side  of  the  cliff  a  lump  of  stone.  It  fell  down 
the  precipice,  and  Donald  could  not  help  looking 
after  it. 

2.  That  was  a  very  rash  thing  to  do.  He  could 
see  the  stone  bound  once,  twice,  against  the  face 
of  the  cliff,  and  drag  other  pieces  along  with  it. 
At  last  it  was  lost  to  sight  far  below  in  a  cloud  of 
dust  and  fragments. 

3.  A  cold  shiver  ran  through  the  boy's  veins,  a 
dark  mist  swam  before  his  eyes ;  it  seemed  to  him 
as  if  the  whole  cliff  were  about  to  yield,  and 
would  dash  down,  carrying  him  in  its  headlong 
course.     He  had,  in  fact,  almost  fainted,  and  it 


THE    eagle's    nest.  61 

was  only  by  laying  himself  once  more  flat  upon 
the  narrow  ledge  that  he  was  able  to  resist  the 
dreadful  giddiness. 

4.  For  at  least  a  minute  he  lay  thus,  with  trem- 
bling limbs  and  throbbing  temples,  but  presently 
he  grew  calm  again,  and  could  dare  to  raise  his 
head. 

5.  He  would  not  look  down  any  more,  that  was 
quite  certain ;  and,  after  waiting  quietly  for  a  few 
minutes  longer,  he  felt  all  his  courage  come  back 
again.  "  It  is  for  father,"  he  said  to  himself  ; 
"  and  I  must  not  be  killed,  for  father  could  not  do 
without  me  at  all  well." 

6.  And  in  a  very  short  time  he  had  reached  the 
foot  of  the  high  rock  in  safety.  But  there  still 
remained  a  hard  thing  to  do.  He  could  see  now 
that  this  flat  rock  was  a  good  deal  higher  than  the 
ledge  along  which  he  had  come.  Worse  still,  the 
sides  of  the  rock  were  almost  smooth :  there  was 
not  foot-hold  for  the  most  clever  climber. 

7.  "  After  all,  I  cannot  do  it,"  thought  Donald. 
Even  if  he  were  to  get  up,  it  would  be  useless  to 
hope  to  climb  down  such  a  place,  and  if  he  re- 
mained on  the  height  the  eagles  would  certainly 
kill  him. 

8.  Then  he  thought  of  his  strong  little  axe,  and 


62  FOURTH    READER. 

in  a  moment  lie  was  at  work  hewing  out  steps  in 
the  very  face  of  the  rock.  Happily  for  him,  it 
was  not  very  hard  rock,  and  Donald  steadily 
hewed  and  climbed,  till  at  last  his  curly  red  head 
and  flushed  face  appeared  over  the  edge,  and 
startled  the  little  eaglets,  who  had  never  seen 
such  a  thing  as  a  human  face  before. 


9.  But  the  young  eaglets  had  not  much  time 
for  thinking.  There  were  two  of  them,  queer, 
half-fledged  things,  lying  on  the  curious  flat  nest 
which  eagles  make.  Eound  them  lay  fish-bones, 
and  other  remains  of  their  food.  In  a  moment 
Donald  had  seized  first  one  and  then  the  other, 
and  had  stuffed  them  into  the  flat  leather  bag  on 


THE  eagle's  nest.  63 

his  back,  in  spite  of  their  squealing  cries.     Now 
his  hands  were  free  to  begin  the  descent. 

10.  That  was  perhaps  the  hardest  of  alL  But 
he  tried  to  think  only  of  the  next  step,  and  to 
forget  that  he  was  hanging  in  the  air  over  an 
immense  depth.  Carefully  he  put  his  feet  into 
each  of  the  holes  he  had  made,  and  then  felt  with 
the  other  foot  for  the  next  step,  but  he  never  once 
looked  down. 

11.  Then  he  slowly  turned  round,  pushed  the 
bag  with  the  yelling  eaglets  round  to  his  chest,  for 
fear  the  weight  should  slip  to  one  side  and  drag 
him  down,  and  began  to  make  his  way  back 
across   the  sharp  ledge. 

He  had  just  reached  the  point  at  which  he 
could  begin  to  crawl,  when  suddenly  he  heard, 
besides  the  cries  of  the  young  eagles,  a  wild 
scream  that  could  only  come  from  the  full-grown 
bird.  He  pushed  the  bag  round  to  his  shoulders 
again,  and  looked  up.  There  was  the  mother- 
eagle  circling  overhead,  quite  ready  to  attack 
the  robber  of  her  nest. 

12.  Her  wings  beat  the  air  so  that  they  raised 
quite  a  wind.  Donald  clung  with  all  his  strength 
to  the  rock,  knowing  that  most  likely  the  other 
eagle  was  not  far  off,  and  that  in  any  case  he  had 


64 


FOURTH  READER. 


a  fierce  battle  before  him.  The  idea  of  a  fight 
for  his  life  seemed  to  give  him  fresh  strength. 
Drawing  out  his  axe  again,  he  waited  till  the 
huge  bird  swung  round  to  attack  him,  and  then 
with  all  his  might  aimed  a  blow  at  her. 

13.  The  blow  was  more  successful  than  he  could 
have  dared  to  hope.  It  struck  the  eagle  in  the 
wing  and  disabled  it.  With  a  shrill  cry  she  tried 
another  circle,  but  her  wing  failed,  and  she  flut- 
tered down  the  cliff,  while  her  struggles  to  flap 
the  wounded  wing  made  a  shower  of  blood  fly 
from  it. 

14,  Donald  once  more  breathed  freely ;  he  looked 
round  to  see  if  the  other  eagle  was  anywhere  in 
sight,  but  no,  there  was  no  sign  of  him.  As 
quickly  as  possible  he  sank  on  all-fours,  and 
crept  to  the  wider  part  of  the  ledge,  while  the 
baby  eagles  yelled  more  loudly  than  before. 


Rash.  —  Unwise,  thoughtless. 
Giddiness.  —  A  feeling  as  if  the 

liead  were  reeling ;  dizziness. 
Disabled.  —  Injured  so  as  to  take 

away  some  of  its  powers. 


Yield. — To  give  way. 

Resist.  —  Throw    off,    not     give 

way  to. 
Hovered.  —  Hung  about,  or  over, 

the  place  in  the  air. 


THE    eagle's    KEST.  65 

XVII. 

fu-ri-ous  gatli-ered  stran-gle  "wliir-ring 


THE    EAGLE'S    NEST.  — Part  V. 

1.  But  the  mother-eagle  gathered  all  her 
strength  together,  and  flew  up  again  to  Donald. 
Seizing  his  shoulders  in  her  strong  claws,  she 
gave  such  a  violent  pull  that,  had  he  been  still 
upon  the  narrow  ledge,  the  boy  must  surely  have 
fallen. 

2.  But  now  he  was  on  a  safer  place,  and  he 
turned  and  struck  blow  after  blow  with  his  axe 
at  the  bird,  while  she  hovered  above  him,  scream- 
ing, and  trying  to  attack  him  with  wings,  and 
beak,  and  claws. 

3.  At  last  one  stroke  was  better  than  all  the 
rest ;  with  one  deep  groan  the  bird  sank,  with  a 
great  wound  in  her  breast,  into  the  depths  of  the 
valley,  never  to  rise  again.  Poor  bird,  she  had 
done  her  best  to  save  her  little  ones  from  the 
robber ! 

4.  Now  that  the  fight  was  over,  Donald  began 
to  feel  sorely  tired.  He  lay  down  on  the  rock, 
closed    his    eyes,    and    lay    quite    still,    to    gain 


66  FOURTH   READER. 

strength  to  go  back  along  the  rest  of  the  dread- 
ful  way. 

5.  Then  he  rose,  and  went  safely  on,  till  he 
came  to  the  last  of  the  dangerous  places.  This 
was  a  narrow  path  along  the  side  of  a  cliff. 
There  was  only  room  to  put  one  foot  before  the 
other,  and  below  was  again  a  precipice,  or  rather 
a  mass  of  sharp-pointed  rocks,  which  it  would  be 
death  to  fall  upon. 

6.  And  here,  when  he  could  scarcely  move,  he 
heard  again  the  whirring  of  great  wings,  and 
a  cry  more  hoarse  and  loud  than  that  of  the 
mother-bird.  There  was  no  doubt  that  the  poor 
father  had  come  back  to  find  his  ruined  home. 
How  could  Donald  defend  himself  in  this  place, 
where  it  was  all  he  could  do  to  walk  along? 

7.  A  piece  of  rock  came  rather  more  forward 
than  the  rest,  and  in  this  a  sort  of  bush  was 
firmly  rooted.  Clinging  tightly  to  this  bush 
with  his  left  arm,  Donald  got  his  trusty  axe  in 
his  right  hand,  and  waited  for  the  eagle's  attack. 

8.  The  great  bird  came  swooping  down,  and 
settled  on  his  shoulders,  beating  him  about  the 
face  with  its  wings,  and  pecking  wildly  with  its 
huge  beak.  It  was  well  for  Donald  that  the 
upper  part  of  his  leather  bag  partly  saved  him 
from  being  torn  by  these  pecks. 


THE  eagle's  nest.  67 

9.  As  it  was,  he  felt  he  could  not  long  bear 
such  an  attack.  He  could  not  reach  the  bird 
with  his  axe ;  it  was  too  close.  He  tried  to  catch 
it  by  the  throat,  and  strangle  it,  but  the  eagle  was 
too  clever  for  him,  and  only  pecked  his  hands. 
Donald  began  to  feel  that  he  should  be  killed,  as 
others  had  been  killed  before  him,  by  the  furious 
bird. 

10.  Donald's  strength  was  fast  failing ;  a  mist 
swam  before  his  eyes ;  he  began  to  feel  there  was 
little  use  in  struggling,  when  all  at  once  he 
thought  of  his  knife.  It  was  in  his  coat  pocket, 
safe,  but  closed ;  he  drew  it  out,  and  managed 
to  open  the  strong  blade  with  his  teeth.  With 
the  little  sharp  blade  in  his  hand,  he  was  again 
a  match  for  his  enemy. 

11.  He  thrust  at  its  breast  once,  twice,  three 
times,  and  the  last  time  he  felt  that  he  must  have 
reached  its  heart,  for  the  bird's  blows  ceased  sud- 
denly, and  it  loosened  its  hold  upon  his  shoulders. 
Then  its  wings  drooped,  and  it  fell  heavily  down 
the  rocks,  and  lay  without  motion  in  the  valley 
below.  Donald  was  saved.  He  still  felt  faint 
and  sick  from  loss  of  blood  and  the  great  efforts 
he  had  made ;  but  when  he  had  drunk  some  of 
the  goat's  milk  from  his  bottle,  he  revived  a  little, 


68 


FOURTH  READER. 


and  was  able  to  cross  the  rest  of  the  narrow  path. 
Then  he  only  had  to  climb  down  the  mountain 
side,  till  he  reached  the  valley  where  the  eagle 
lay  dead. 


12.  It  was  a  splendid  golden  eagle,  very  large 
indeed.  From  the  tip  of  one  wing  to  the  tip  of 
the  other  was  about  nine  feet.  Donald  looked 
at  him  with  pride  and  delight;   he  knelt  for  a 


THE  eagle's  nest.  69 

moment  upon  the  grass  to  give  thanks  for  his 
safety.  Then  rising,  he  tied  the  eagle's  claws 
together,  so  that  he  could  carry  it  more  easily. 
Next  he  felt  for  his  knife.  It  was  nowhere  to  be 
found ;  he  must  have  dropped  it  on  the  rocks 
above. 

13.  "I  shall  leave  it,"  he  said.  "I  dare  say 
the  gentleman  would  give  me  a  new  knife  for 
this  big  eagle  if  he  knew  how  hard  it  was  to  get 
him."  Then  he  set  off  down  the  mountain  side, 
as  fast  as  it  was  safe  to  go  on  the  smooth  heather. 
He  was  not  going  home  first,  so  he  turned  aside, 
and  went  straight  down  to  the  little  inn. 

14.  A  party  of  travellers  had  just  arrived,  and 
they  looked  with  surprise  at  Donald,  and  then 
crowded  round  to  touch  the  eagle,  and  wonder 
how  such  a  lad  had  caught  and  killed  such  a 
large  and  fierce  bird. 

15.  But  Donald  would  not  stay  to  answer  ques- 
tions, and  begged  to  be  taken  at  once  to  Dr. 
Mayne.  "There  they  are,  sir,"  he  said,  pulling 
out  the  baby  eaglets,  which  at  once  began  to 
gape,  and  cry  again  for  food.  "I  expect  they 
are  hungry,  sir,"  said  Donald. 

"  But  my  boy,"  cried  Dr.  Mayne ;  "  what  a 
state  you  are  in !     What  has  happened  ? 


70  FOURTH    READER. 

16.  So  Donald  told  him  all  the  story,  and  Dr. 
Mayne  at  once  rang,  and  ordered  some  food  for 
the  eaglets,  and  a  dinner  for  Donald  as  well. 
"  But  I  want  to  know  what  you  mean  by  risking 
life  and  limb  for  those  birds  when  I  told  you  I 
did  not  want  them,"  he  said  more  gravely. 

"I  was  not  going  to  be  paid  for  doing  noth- 
ing, sir,  and  I  knew  you  only  said  you  did  not 
want  the  birds  because  you  thought  I  might  be 
hurt." 

17.  "  You  are  a  brave  boy,  and  truthful,  too," 
said  the  gentleman ;  '^  but  do  not  forget  in  days 
to  come  that  life  is  too  precious  to  be  lightly 
thrown  away."  He  promised  to  give  Donald  a 
new  suit  of  clothes  and  a  knife,  and  to  visit  him 
at  his  home  next  day,  and  then  told  him  to  hurry 
home,  for  his  father  might  be  anxious. 

18.  Duncan  Mac  Ian  was  sitting  sadly  in  his 
house,  having  just  seen  his  neighbor  drive  Brown 
Kate  in  to  the  evening  milking.  His  cousin  had 
not  been  able  to  lend  him  the  money,  and  he  was 
wondering  what  to  do,  when  Donald  rushed  in, 
threw  his  arms  round  his  neck,  then  flew  to  the 
cupboard,  took  out  the  gold  pieces,  and  put  them 
in  his  father's  hand. 

19.  "She  is  ours,  father  !  "  he  cried. 


THE    eagle's    nest.  71 

Duncan  looked  at  the  money,  then  at  his  boy. 

"Donald,"  he  said,  "did  you  come  by  this 
money  honestly  ?  "  But  when  he  heard  the  whole 
story  he  turned  pale.  "  You  did  it  for  my  sake, 
Donald,  my  good  boy !     But  what  should  I  have 

done  if "     He  could  say  no  more,  and  Donald 

threw  his  arms  round  his  father's  neck,  and  laid 
his  cheek  against  his. 

20.  The  next  morning  Dr.  Mayne  came  up,  as 
he  had  said.  He  praised  Donald's  courage,  and 
thanked  him  again,  and  then  took  out  a  crisp 
new  bank-note  for  five  pounds,  and  laid  it  on 
the  table. 

"  That  is  for  the  big  eagle,"  he  said. 

"'Why,  sir,"  cried  Donald,  "a  new  knife,  and 
clothes,  and  then  all  that !  The  eagle  was  not 
worth  a  quarter  of  it.  Besides,  I  had  to  kill  him 
to  save  myself." 

21.  "That's  true,  sir,"  said  Duncan.  "Take 
back  your  money,  you  have  done  too  much." 

"If  you  will  not  have  it,"  said  Dr.  Mayne, 
"at  least  you  must  take  it  for  Donald.  It  will 
bo  something  for  him  to  begin  life  with." 

22.  "  He  has  already  a  brave  heart,  sir,"  said  his 
father.  "That  is  one  of  the  best  things  a  poor 
man  can  start  life  with." 


72  FOUKTH    READER» 

"  Or  any  other  man/'  said  Dr.  Mayne. 

In  after  years  Dr.  Mayne  took  Donald  to  be  his 
gamekeeper. 

"  I  knew  I  could  trust  him/'  he  said ;  and 
Donald's  friend  has  not  lived  to  regret  his  kind- 
ness.   


Clever.  —  Wise,  skilful. 
Revived.  —  Recovered  from  f aint- 
ness. 


Precious.  —  Valuable. 
Regret  kindness.  —  Be  sorry  for 
having  exercised  it. 


TALES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL.  —  Penmanship.      I. 

How  well  you  write,  cousin  Harry. 

Do  I  ?  I  ought  to,  then,  for  we  are  at  it  all  our  spare  time  at 
school.  Besides  writing  the  words  at  the  head  of  the  reading  les- 
son every  day,  and  all  the  capitals  and  small  letters  once  a  week, 
we  copy  a  piece  of  poetry  every  week  in  our  blank  books.  I'll  show 
you.     My  book  is  almost  full  of  poems. 

I  don't  see  how  you  can  do  it  so  well. 

We  have  the  book  we  copy  from  open  so  as  to  see  how  to  begin 
the  lines,  and  where  to  put  in  punctuation  marks,  and  leave  spaces 
between  the  verses.  The  little  crosses  are  where  I  made  mistakes, 
but  there  aren't  many. 

No ;  and  it  is  as  easy  to  read  as  print. 

We  have  had  this  kind  of  writing  all  the  term.  Next  week  we 
shall  have  Dictation.  That  is  writing  without  any  copy  what  the 
teacher  reads.     We  shall  not  put  that  in  the  books. 

That  won't  look  so  well. 

I  don't  know.  We  are  to  be  told  the  day  before  what  we  are  to 
write,  and  can  study  it  all  we  wish ;  and  we  are  going  to  correct 
each  other's  work. 

Do  you  know  the  rules  for  the  use  of  capitals  ? 

No ;  what  are  they  ? 

Begin  every  sentence  and  every  line  of  poetry  with  a  capital  f 
the  days  of  the  week  ;  the  months ;   and  I  and  O  used  as  words. 


BIRDS    IN    SUMMER.  73 


XVIII.       . 

frol-ic-some  trav-erse  skim-ming  pierge 

blos-som-ing         furze  wlieel-ing  re-gions 


BIRDS   IN   SUMMER. 

How  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be ! 
Flitting  about  in  each  leafy  tree ; 

In  the  leafy  trees  so  broad  and  tall, 

Like  a  green  and  beautiful  palace  hall 

With  its  airy  chambers  light  and  boon, 

That  open  to  sun,  and  stars,  and  moon, 

That  open  into  the  bright  blue  sky 

And  the  frolicsome  winds  as  they  wander  by. 

They  have  left  their  nests  in  the  forest  bough. 
Those  homes  of  delight  they  need  not  now. 
And  the  young  and  the  old  they  wander  out 
And  traverse  their  green  world  round  about ; 
And,  hark !  at  the  top  of  this  leafy  hall 
How  one  to  the  other  they  lovingly  call ; 
"  Come  up  !  come  up !  "  they  seem  to  say, 
'^  Where  the  topmost  twigs  in  the  breezes  sway  -, 

"  Come  up  !  come  up  !  for  the  world  is  fair 
Where  the  merry  leaves  da^nce  in  the  summer  air." 
And  the  birds  below  give  back  the  cry. 


74  FOURTH    READER. 

"  We  come  !  we  come  !  to  the  branches  high  ! " 
How  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be, 
Flitting  about  in  a  leafy  tree ! 
And  away  through  the  air  what  joy  to  go 
And  to  look  on  the  bright  green  earth  below. 

How  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be ! 

Skimming  about  on  the  breezy  sea, 

Cresting  the  billows  like  silvery  foam, 

Then  wheeling  away  to  its  cliff-built  home ; 

What  joy  it  must  be  to  sail  upborne 

By  a  strong,  free  wing  through  the  rosy  morn, 

To  meet  the  young  sun  face  to  face 

And  pierce  like  a  shaft  the  boundless  space. 

How  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be  ! 
Wherever  it  listeth  there  to  flee ; 
To  go  when  a  joyful  fancy  calls 
Dashing  adown  'mong  the  waterfalls, 
Then  wheeling  about  with  its  mates  at  play 
Above  and  below  and  among  the  spray, 
Hither  and  thither  with  screams  as  wild 
As  the  laughing  mirth  of  a  rosy  child. 

What  joy  it  must  be  like  a  living  breeze 
To  flutter  about  'mong  the  flowering  trees. 


papa's  story  of  the  butterfly.  75 

Lightly  to  soar  and  to  see  beneath 
The  wastes  of  the  blossoming  purple  heath 
And  the  yellow  furze  like  fields  of  gold 
That  gladden  some  fairy  regions  old ; 
On  mountain  tops,  on  the  billowy  sea, 
On  the  leafy  stems  of  the  forest  tree. 
How  pleasant  the  life  of  a  bird  must  be ! 

Mary  Howitt. 

XIX. 

tomb  TAnrig-gled  sti-fling  spec-i-mens 

flu-id  t-wist-ed  co-coon  tongue 

incli-es  in-ter-est  sug-gest-ed  spe-cies 


PAPA'S  STORY  OF  THE  BUTTERFLY. 

1.  I  was  at  play  in  the  garden  one  cold  autumn 
morning,  when  I  saw  a  large  caterpillar  on  the 
north  side  fence.  It  wriggled  and  twisted  about 
in  such  a  funny  way  that  I  stopped  my  play  and 
watched  it. 

2.  It  drew  out  of  its  mouth  a  sticky  fluid,  and 
with  it  painted  its  whole  body.  All  the  boys  soon 
gathered  about  me,  and  as  we  were  sure  it  was  a 
chance  to  learn  something  of  butterfly-life,  we  sent 
to  ask  my  aunt  Sophia  to  come  too. 

3.  She  told  us  the  butterfly  was  spinning  a  sticky 


76  FOURTH    READER. 

thread,  that  would  harden  by  and  by  and  serve 
him  in  two  ways.  •  It  would  hold  him  to  the  fence 
when  he  lost  the  power  to  hold  himself,  and  make 
a  coat  to  keep  out  the  wet  and  the  cold  while 
he  was  taking  his  winter's  nap. 

4.  We  thought  that  what  kept  out  the  cold 
would  keep  the  air  out  too,  and  did  not  see 
what  was  to  save  the  poor  creature  from  stifling. 
Before  he  had  finished  his  waterproof  coat  it 
seemed  more  like  a  tomb  than  the  covering  of 


a  living  thing.  One  of  the  boys  suggested  that 
he  would  rest  from  breathing,  perhaps,  as  indeed 
he  did,  so  far  as  any  one  could  see. 

5.  One  day  I  cut  the  cocoon  from  the  fence  and 
put  it  on  the  mantel  in  my  bedroom,  and  then, 
boy-like,  forgot  the  whole  matter. 


PAPAS    STORY    OF    THE    BUTTERFLY.  77 

6.  One  summer  morning  as  I  was  dressing  in  my 
room,  I  heard  a  little  pecking  sound.  I  thought 
it  was  a  hungry  mouse,  but  as  I  chanced  to  come 
near  the  mantel,  to  my  great  surprise,  the  cater- 
pillar cocoon  was  shaking,  and  from  one  end 
something  was  pushing  itself    out. 

7.  It  proved  to  be  a  tooth  nibbling  at  the  end 
to  make  an  opening.  Very  soon  a  head  appeared, 
and  after  a  few  more  violent  wriggles  a  glorious 
butterfly  presented  itself. 

8.  I  well  remember  how  excited  I  became,  as 
half  dressed  I  ran  through  the  house,  begging 
all  the  family  to  come  and  see  "the  strangest 
thing  that  ever  happened  yet." 

9.  I  can  see  the  creature  now  in  my  mind.  It 
was  of  yellowish-brown  color,  and  its  wings  w^hen 
spread  were  fully  three  inches  from  tip  to  tip, 
while  its  body  was  more  than  an  inch  long.  Both 
body  and  wings  were  covered  with  scales. 

10.  With  what  delight  I  found  its  two  horns, 
and  saw  it  thrust  out  and  draw  back  its  hol- 
lowed tongue.  I  kept  my  prize  for  many 
years,  though  to  do  so  I  had  to  shorten  its 
little  life. 

11.  It  was  this  that  gave  me  my  first  interest 
to  study  insects.     "  Did  I  ever  tell  you  the  story 


78  FOURTH    READER. 

of  one  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte's  generals,  who 
took  such  delight  in  collecting  specimens  of  but- 
terflies ?  " 

^^No,  papa,  I  am  sure  you  never  did.  Is  it  a 
story?  " 

^^YeS;  little  Jack,  a  true  story. 

12.  "Whenever  General  Dejian  (for  that  was 
his  name)  led  his  soldiers  out  in  new  countries  he 
sought  for  nevv^  species  of  insects,  and  when  one 
was  found  he  pinned  it  upon  his  hat.  The  sol- 
diers grew  accustomed  to  see  their  general's  hat, 
even  in  battles,  decorated  with  his  treasures  — 
gay  butterflies,  jewelled  beetles,  and  shining  bugs. 

13.  "  During  a  battle  in  Austria,  while  at  Napo- 
leon's side,  a  shot  struck  the  general's  head  and 
threw  him  senseless  from  his  horse.  Recovering 
from  the  shock,  he  heard  the  emperor  anxiously 
asking,  '  Is  he  still  alive  ? '  He  answered,  '  I  am 
alive,  but  alas,  my  insects  are  all  gone,'  for  his 
hat  was  completely  torn  in  pieces." 

14.  "That's  a  nice  story,"  said  Harry;  "but 
does  it  not  seem  cruel  to  kill  the  poor  things  ? " 

"We  ought  not  to  gain  our  pleasure  at  the 
expense  of  pain  to  the  poor  insects,  but  these 
little  creatures  have  but  a  short,  gay  life  at  the 
best.      If   we  wish   to   study  them   ourselves   or 


PAPA  S    STORY    OF    THE    BUTTERFLY. 


79 


show  others  their  wonderful  varieties  and  beau- 
ties, it  seems  to  me  right  to  shorten  the  life  a 
little,  since  it  can  be  done  without  pain." 

15.  "How  can  it,  papa,"  asked  Harry. 

"Do  you  remember  taking  chloroform  from  a 
sponge  and  knowing  nothing  while  your  broken 
arm  was  being  set?" 

16.  "  Certainly  I  do." 

"Well,  if  you  had  taken  too  much  you  might 
have  known  nothing  till  now,  only  you  would 
never  have  had  the  power  to  awake.  That  is 
what  happens  to  the  butterfly.  All  that  he 
knows  is  lighting  on  the  sponge  and  feeling 
sleepy.     The  overdose  takes  his  life." 

17.  "  May  we  begin  to  make  a  collection  ? " 
"Yes,  if  you  do  it  to  learn,  and  not  for  the 

mere  pleasure  of  having  something  pretty  to 
look  at." 


Fluid.  —  Capable  of  flowing.  The 
air  is  a  fluid  because  its  particles 
move  about  without  separating 
from  the  mass.  Gas  and  all 
liquids  are  fluids. 

General.  —  One  of  the  chief  offi- 
cers in  an   army. 

Napoleon  Bonaparte, —  Emperor 
of  the  French ;  was  born  in  17G9, 
and  died  in  1821. 


Specimen.  — A  small  portion,  or 

a  single  thing  used  as  a  sample 

of  the  whole. 
Species    [spe-shez). — A    variety 

that  he   had   not   met    before. 

Species  sometimes  means  class. 
Tomb.  —  A   house   or   vault   for 

the  burial  of  the  dead. 
Suggested  [sug-jest  or  sud -jest) . -^ 

Proposed,  brought  to  mind. 


80 


FOURTH  READER. 


XX. 


Ros-a-raond 

bat-tered 

scep-ter 


prop-er-ty 

con-ceit-ed 

de-sert-ed 


ch.ar-ac-ter 

so-ci-e-ty 

pre-serve 


sur -prised 

con-clu-sion 

quar-relled 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN'S  QUARREL  — Part   I. 

(TOLD    BY    A    DOLL.) 

1.  I  was  very  much  pleased  indeed,  when  I  first 
came  into  the  world,  to  find  that  I  was  to  become 


the  property  of  a  king  and  queen.  I  had  seen  a 
great  deal  of  life  through  my  shop-window,  and 
had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  was  formed  for 
high  society.  So  therefore,  when  my  new  mistress 
said  to  me,  "Dolly,  I  am  the  queen  to-day,  and 


THE  KIKG  AND  QUEEn's  QUARREL.      81 

Bertie  is  the   king,"  I  was  not  at   all   surprised, 
but  held  myself  as  firmly  as  before. 

2.  The  king  and  queen  sat  together  on  one 
chair,  which  I  suppose  is  the  constant  habit  of 
kings  and  queens.  They  were  both  very  nice 
and  neat,  for  the  nurse  had  just  brushed  their 
hair.  The  queen  was  four  years  old,  and  the 
king  was  six.  And  they  were  both  the  very 
prettiest  of   children. 

3.  The  litfle  queen  had  a  blue  print  frock  and 
a  little  round  face.  She  had  pretty  shy  eyes  that 
looked  x)ut  from  beneath  a  shock  of  curly  hair. 
The  little  king  was  very  pretty  too.  And  he 
liked  to  play  with  dolls,  which  I  always  think 
is  a  nice  trait  of  character  in  a  boy. 

4.  "  Oh,  what  a  lovely  doll ! "  cried  the  queen, 
when  she  first  saw  me.  I  may  repeat  it  without 
vanity,  for  I  suppose  it  was  true.  Anyway  it  is 
exactly  what  everybody  said  the  moment  they  set 
eyes  on  me.  People  always  praise  dolls  to  their 
faces,  and  that  is  what  makes  us  look  so  conceited. 
Even  when  we  are  old,  and  battered,  and  worn 
out,  we  still  preserve  a  rather  conceited  air  —  we 
still  look  pleased  and  proud  of  ourselves  so  long 
as  there  is  one  little  child  who  loves  us,  and  who 
thinks  us  pretty  still. 


82  fou'rth  reader. 

5.  The  king  and  queen  sat  down  together  on 
their  throne,  and  were  as  happy  as  happy  could 
be.  The  little  queen's  feet  dangled  a  good  way 
o:E  the  ground,  but  she  did  not  mind  that  in  the 
least.  She  put  one  chubby  arm  round  her  brother 
to  keep  her  quite  firm,  and  the  other  arm  was 
around  me. 

6.  When  a  nice  little  fat,  dimpled  arm  holds  me 
tightly  against  a  loving  heart,  I  feel  pleased  and 
happy.  If  I  were  a  pussy-cat  I  should  purr,  for 
I  feel  that  I  am  in  my  right  place. 

7.  "Now  I  am  king  and  you  are  queen,'*  said 
the  little  boy;  "and  everybody  that  comes  in 
must  bow  to  us." 

"  Dolly  shall  be  the  princess,"  said  the  little  girl, 
in  a  voice  like  that  of  a  cooing  dove. 

8.  "Her  name  must  be  Rosamond,"  said  the 
little  boy  gravely.  "  That  sounds  something  like 
a  princess." 

"Wothamond,"  repeated  the  little  girl,  very 
much  pleased ;  and  she  pressed  me  close  to  her 
heart.  Suddenly  a  cloud  passed  over  the  face 
of  the  little  boy.  He  looked  at  me  hard  for  a 
minute,  and  then  he  spoke. 

9.  "  No,  that  won't  do  at  all,"  he  said ;  "  I  am 
an  old  French  king,  and  we're  under  the  French 


THE    KIKG    AKD    QTJEEN's    QTJARHEL.  83 

law.  She  mustn't  be  a  princess,  or  she'll  never 
come  to  the  throne.  We  must  pretend  she  is 
a  prince,  and  we'll  call  her  Jack." 

10.  You  should  have  seen  the  little  girl's  face 
at  this.  All  the  dimples  went  out  of  it,  and  she 
looked  quite  frightened. 

"Oh,  don't  call  her  Jack,  dear,"  she  cried;  "it's 
so  ugly.     And  I'd  rather  she  was  a  princess." 

"Then  she'll  never  come  to  the  throne,"  said 
the  boy  solemnly.  "I  read  it  lately  in  my  his- 
tory." 

Here  the  little  girl  looked  much  inclined  to  cry. 

11.  "  Oh,  don't  say  she  won't  come  to  the 
throne ! "  she  cried  sadly.  "  I  like  my  princess 
Rosamond  so  much." 

"She'll  never  come  to  the  throne,"  said  the 
king,  laying  down  the  law  with  his  forefinger; 
"a  princess  is  no  good  at  all.     She's  a  stupid." 

12.  "Well,  she  shan't  be  called  Jack,"  said  the 
queen,  plucking  up  a  little  spirit. 

"'  Then  I  shan't  play,"  said  the  little  king,  at 
once  jumping  down  ofE  the  chair. 

13.  The  little  queen  put  her  finger  in  her  mouth, 
and  looked  as  if  she  did  not  quite  know  what  to 
do.  She  did  not  care  to  play  without  Bertie,  but 
she  wanted  to  have  her  own  way.     She  glanced  at 


84 


FOUKTH    HEADER. 


Bertie  out  of  the  corner  of  her  eye.  He  turned 
his  back  to  her  directly,  and  would  not  look  her 
in  the  face.  Yes,  there  was  no  doubt  about  it,  — 
she  could  tell  it  from  the  look  of  his  shoulders,  — 
Bertie  was  in  the  sulks. 


14.  All  their  play  was  spoiled.  The  throne  was 
deserted,  the  sceptre  laid  down.  They  did  not 
care  to  be  king  or  queen  by  themselves. 

"I  shall  go  down  to  mamma,  then,"  said  the 
queen,  and  she  put  me  down  on  the  chair,  and 
went  off. 

15.  For  some  time  Bertie  stood  in  the  corner, 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  S  QUARREL. 


85 


looking  very  cross.  Then  lie  looked  round,  and 
began  wondering  when  May  would  come  back. 
Next  he  began  to  cry. 

16.  "  Naughty  girl !  naughty  girl !  I  don't  want 
her  to  come  back !  "  and  he  took  a  piece  of  string 
out  of  his  pocket,  and  kept  slashing  it  against  his 
sleeve  as  he  spoke.  Suddenly,  in  the  midst  of  his 
temper,  he  caught  sight  of  me. 

17.  "  Horrid  doll !  "  he  cried ;  "  we  should  never 
have  quarrelled  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you !  You 
shall  be  a  boy,"  he  added,  sternly,  "for  I'll  cut 
all  your  hair  off ! " 


Trait. —  Something  in  a  person's 
character. 

Property.  —  Anything  that  be- 
longs to  a  person. 


Had  come  to  the  conclusion.  — 
Had  made  up  her  mind. 

Shock.  —  A  mass.  Properly  a 
heap  of  sheaves  of  wheat  or  rye. 


>J«ic 


XXI. 

scis-sors  com-plex-ion       un-stead-y       cup-board 

dang-ling       friglit-ened  scul-ler-y  cliain-ber-lain 


THE    KING    AND    QUEEN'S   QUARREL  — Part    II. 

1.  A  shudder  went  through  me.  The  nursery 
scissors  were  lying  on  the  table.  He  took  them 
up,  and  in  a  minute  it  was  done.     Clip,  clip,  went 


86  FOURTH    READER. 

the  scissors,  as  if  they  were  pleased,  and  nearly 
the  whole  of  my  flaxen  curls  lay  scattered  on  the 
floor.  How  I  looked  I  don't  know,  but  I  think 
Bertie  was  a  little  frightened  when  he  saw  what 
he  had  done.  I  don't  think  he  was  anxious  for 
his  sister  to  see  me,  for  he  jumped  up  on  the  fen- 
der and  put  me  on  top  of  the  mantel-piece. 

2.  Here  I  lay,  with  my  feet  dangling  down  off 
the  side,  about  as  ill  at  ease  as  a  doll  could  be. 
Nearly  all  my  hair  was  cut  short,  my  hat  had 
fallen  off  in  the  fray,  and  I  found  myself  in  a 
position  of  much  discomfort,  and  even  danger. 
I  could  see  nothing  that  went  on  in  the  room,  and 
the  heat  of  the  stove  was  fast  melting  my  beauti- 
ful complexion.  I  tried  to  look  like  a  princess, 
but  it  was  hard. 

3.  The  nursery  door  opened,  and  the  little  girl 
came  back.  In  a  hainute  she  ran  up  to  the  chair 
where  she  had  left  me,  and  then  looked  at  her 
brother. 

4.  "  Where's  dolly  ? "  she  cried,  and  she  looked 
anxiously  round. 

"I  shan't  tell  you,"  said  Bertie,  beginning  to 
look  frightened. 

5.  "Oh,  dolly,  dolly!  Where  is  my  dolly?" 
cried  the  little  girl,  and  how  I  longed  for  a  voice 


THE    KING   AND    QUEEn's    QUARREL. 


87 


that  could  answer  her.  I  could  hear  her  going 
all  round  the  room,  pulling  open  drawers  and  cup- 
boards and  hunting  for  me,  but  I  never  said  a 
word. 


^tr<\ 


6.  Suddenly  I  heard  a  cry.  She  had  come  to 
the  hearth-rug,  where  lay  the  scissors  and  nearly 
all  my  beautiful  flaxen  curls  on  the  floor. 

7.  "  Oh,  my  dear  dolly !  my  dear  dolly  !  He's 
cut  off  her  hair.  Oh,  you  cruel  boy !  "  cried  the 
little  Queen,  and  she  sat  down  and  cried  as  if  her 
heart  would  break.  Then  she  glanced  up  and 
caught  sight  of  where  I  lay  quietly  on  the  mantel- 
piece, with  my,  eyes  turned  up  to  the  ceiling. 


88  FOURTH    READER. 

8.  In  a  moment  she  was  upon  a  chair  and  ready 
to  fetch  me  down,  when,  what  with  the  chair 
being  unsteady  and  her  eyes  being  full  of  tears, 
the  chair  slipped  beneath  her,  and  down  she  fell 
on  the  floor. 

9.  Poor  little  Queen !  she  was  in  a  very  bad 
way !  Her  head  fell  against  the  fender,  and  hurt 
her  very  much.  She  sobbed  and  cried  both  with 
the  fright  and  the  pain.  Nurse  came  running  up, 
and  took  her  on  her  knee,  and  it  was  a  long  time 
before  she  could  console  her. 

10.  "My  dolly,  my  dolly!"  she  cried  between 
her  tears,  and  the  nurse  took  me  down  from  the 
mantel-piece  and  gave  me  to  her.  How  she  did 
cry  over  me!  I  felt  dreadfully  vexed,  because 
tears  are  fatal  to  my  complexion. 

11.  Bertie  stood  looking  on  frightened,  and  came 
up  to  look  at  his  sister. 

"  Go  away,  you  naughty  boy,"  cried  nurse  ;  "  it's 
all  your  doing,  and  your  sister  will  make  herself 
ill  with  crying." 

12.  When  my  little  Queen  heard  Bertie  being 
blamed  she  grew  very  quiet  all  at  once.  She  gave 
her  eyes  a  final  wipe  with  her  handkerchief,  and 
she  got  ofl  nurse's  knee  and  turned  to  Bertie. 
Bertie  was  crying  too,  and  he  h^d  gone  quite  white 


THE  KING  AND  QUEEN  S  QUARREL. 


89 


with  the  fright  that  he  got  when  he  saw  little 
May  fall  down. 

13.  "  0  May,  I  am  so  sorry,  dear,"  he  said. 
"  Will  you  kiss  me,  dear,  and  make  it  up  ?  Do, 
please." 


No  need  to  ask  the  little  Queen  twice.  She 
threw  her  little  arms  round  Bertie. 

14.  "lam  so  sorry,  May,"  he  said.  "I  didn't 
know  you  would  have  cared  so  much." 

"Never  mind,  Bertie  dear,"  said  the  little 
Queen  gently;  and  she  tried  to  look  cheerful, 
though  I  knew  she  was  grieved  to  the  heart. 
"  Perhaps  it's  almost  for  the  best,"  she  whispered 


90 


FOURTH  READER. 


softly,  "for   now  she   can  be  prince  or  princess, 
just  whichever  you  like." 

15.  So  they  made  it  up,  and  cried  and  laughed 
again,  as  is  the  way  with  these  poor  mortals.  I 
had  remained  calm  all  the  time  ;  but  the  poor 
little  Queen  had  cried  over  me  till  she  had  washed 
nearly  all  the  color  off  my  face. 

16.  I  lived  with  the  children  for  a  long  time 
after  this,  but  I  never  saw  them  quarrel  again. 
I  took  my  part  in  many  a  game,  and  was  some- 
times a  princess  to  please  the  Queen,  and  some- 
times a  prince  because  the  King  liked  it  best.  I 
have  even  been  dressed  up  as  the  Lord  Chamber- 
lain before  now,  and  sometimes  I  have  taken  the 
part  of  the  scullery-maid.  But  neither  the  King, 
nor  the  Queen,  nor  I,  have  ever  lost  our  temper 
again,  and  I  flatter  myself  that,  whatever  part  I 
have  taken,  I  have  borne  myself  with  dignity. 

Lucie  Cobbe. 


Console. — To  comfort. 

Fatal.  —  Sure  to  injure  or  destroy. 

Final.  —  Last. 

Mortals. — JIuman  beings.  Prop- 
erly all  "svho  must  die. 

Borne  myself.  —  Behaved. 

Lord  Chamberlain.  —  A  high  offi- 
cer at  a  royal  court. 


Dangled.  — Hung  down. 

Dignity.  —  A  noble  manner. 

Scullery-maid.  —  A  servant  who 
washes  up  plates  and  dishes. 

I  flatter  myself.  —  I  like  to  be- 
lieve. 

Complexion. — The  color  of  a 
face. 


THE    MILLER    OF    THE    DEE. 


91 


XXII. 

THE    MILLER    OF   THE    DEE. 


There  dwelt  a  miller  hale  and  bold 

Beside  the  river  Dee; 
He  worked  and  sang  from  morn  till  night. 

No  lark  more  blithe  than  he ; 
And  this  the  burden  of  his  song 

Forever  used  to  be, — 
"  I  envy  nobody  ;  no,  not  I, 

And  nobody  envies  me  !  '* 


92  FOURTH    READER. 

"  Thou'rt  wrong,  my  friend!"  said  old  King 
Hal, 

"  Thou  rt  wrong  as  wrong  can  be ; 
For  could  my  heart  be  light  as  thine, 

I'd  gladly  change  with  thee. 
And  tell  me  now  what  makes  thee  sing, 

With  voice  so  loud  and  free. 
While  I  am  sad,  though  I'm  the  king, 

Beside  the  river  Dee  ?  " 

The  miller  smiled  and  doffed  his  cap. 

"  I  earn  my  bread,"  quoth  he ; 
"  I  love  my  wife,  I  love  my  friend, 

I  love  my  children  three  j 
I  owe  no  penny  I  cannot  pay, 

I  thank  the  river  Dee, 
That  turns  the  mill,  that  grinds  the  corn. 

To  feed  my  babes  and  me." 

"Good    friend,"    said    Hal,    and   sighed    the 
while, 

"  Farewell !  and  happy  be  ; 
But  say  no  more,  if  thou'st  be  true, 

That  no  one  envies  thee. 
Thy  mealy  cap  is  worth  my  crown. 

Thy  mill  my  kingdom's  fee ; 


THE    MILLER    OF    THE    DEE.  93 

Such  men  as  thou  are  England's  boast, 
0  miller  of  the  Dee  !  " 

C.  Mackay. 


Hale.  — Healthy. 

Burden.  —  The  theme  or  subject 

most    often   repeated;   so,   the 

chorus  of  a  song. 
Doffed.  —  "  Doff  "  =  do  off;    i.e., 

take  off. 


Quoth.  —  Said. 

My  kingdom's  fee.  —  The  owner- 
ship or  possession  of  my  king- 
dom. 

Blithe.  —  Gay,  merry,  joyous. 


>J*<c 


XXIII. 

s-wine-herd        com-pan-ion       cusli-ion       un-fort-u-nate 
pos-i-tive-ly       o-bliged  sig-ni-fy        par-tic-u-lar-ly 


THROUGH    THE    WOOD;  or, 
The  Servant  of  All.  — Part   I. 

1.  "Carl,"  said  his  master,  "you  have  been  my 
faithful  swineherd  these  three  years,  and  as  yet 
I  have  given  you  nothing ;  go  and  sell  the  half  of 
my  herd  in  the  town  that  lies  at  the  other  side  of 
the  forest,  and  the  money  shall  be  yours." 

"  Mine  !  my  own !  "  said  Carl  to  himself,  as  he 
drove  the  swine  before  him  into  the  wood. 

2.  "Your  own,  Carl,"  said  a  voice,  close  to  his 
ear. 

Carl   turned,  and   saw  that   an   old  man  was 


94 


FOURTH  READER. 


walking  beside  him,  with  a  book  in  his  hand. 
Carl  peeped  over  the  old  man's  shoulder,  and  tried 
to  read  what  was  written  in  the  book,  but  he 
could  not  make  out  much,  for  the  letters  were 
very  curiously  shaped. 


"  Trying  to  peep  into  my  book,  I  see,"  said  the 
old  man. 

3.  "  Oh,  indeed,  I  beg  your  pardon !  "  said  Carl. 

"No  offence,  no  offence,  I  assure  you,"  answered 
the  other ;  "  sit  down  by  me,  and  you  shall  read 
as  much  as  you  like." 

Carl's  pigs  were  busy  picking  up  chestnuts  just 


THROUGH    THE    WOOD.  95 

then,  so  Carl  sat  down  by  the  old  man,  and  looked 
into  his  book. 

4.  "  It  is  curious,  but  not  interesting,"  said  Carl, 
for  it  was  only  a  list  of  names. 

"Do  you  see  nothing  that  interests  you?" 
asked  his  companion. 

"  I  see  one  thing,"  said  Carl ;  "  one  of  the  names 
is  written  in  gilt  letters ;  what  is  that  for  ?  " 

"  That  name  is  the  name  of  a  king,"  answered 
the  old  man,  shutting  his  book. 

5.  "  And  what  is  a  king,  pray  ? "  asked  Carl. 
"I  have  never  seen  one,  though  I  have  been  a 
swineherd  these  three  years,  and  walked  about  a 
good  deal." 

"  You  may  see  one  this  evening,  however," 
answered  the  old  man,  "  for  the  people  of  yonder 
city  to  which  you  are  going,  expect  to  find  a  king 
to-day ;  they  have  been  looking  out  for  one  a  long 
time. 

6.  The  throne  is  standing  ready  in  the  market- 
place, the  crown  rests  before  it  on  a  crimson  cush- 
ion, and  all  the  people  are  waiting  to  bow  down. 
They  quite  think  the  king  will  come  to-day,  and 
this  time,  I  believe,  they  will  not  be  disappointed." 

"  I  will  walk  on,  then,"  said  Carl,  "  for  certainly 
I  should  like  to  see  him."  So  Carl  walked  on 
after  his  pigs,  and  left  the  old  man  sitting  there. 


96 


FOURTH  HEADER. 


7.  Presently  Carl  overtook  a  thin,  miserable- 
looking  donkey,  who  was  trying  in  vain  to  drag 
after  him  a  cartload  of  wood. 

"Good  Master  Carl,"  said  the  donkey,  "will 
you  not  take  pity  on  an  unfortunate  creature, 
and  help  me  on  with  this  load  a  little  way?  I 
am  so  tired  I  shall  never  reach  my  master's 
cabin." 

8.  "Never  despair,  my  good  friend,"  said  Carl 
to  the  donkey,  as  he  placed  himself  behind  the 
cart,  and  began  to  push  it  vigorously  along.  But 
this  was  very  hard  work,  and  Carl  was  not  fond 
of  hard  work,  so  by-and-by  he  said  to  the  donkey, 
"  That  will  do  now,  I  think  ;  you  can  go  your  way 
and  I  will  go  mine." 

"But  I  can't  go  my  way,"  said  the  donkey, 
standing  stock-still,  and  beginning  to  bray. 

9.  "  Now,  I  really  think  you  are  a  little  unrea- 
sonable," said  Carl  to  the  donkey.  "Look  what 
a  long  distance  I  have  pushed  your  cart  for  you, 
and  I  positively  must  run  after  my  pigs  now,  for 
they  are  quite  on  before  me." 

But  the  donkey  went  on  braying ;  there  is  no 
doubt  he  ivas  very  unreasonable. 

10.  "But  that  does  not  signify,"  said  Carl  to 
himself,  "  he  can't  help  being  an  ass,  and  I  dare 


THROUGH    THE    WOOD.  97 

say  lie  is  very  tired  j "  so  Carl  went  on  pushing 
the  donkey's  cart  for  him,  until  they  came  to  his 
master's  cabin. 

"Thank  you,  thank  you,  good  Master  Carl," 
said  the  donkey,  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 

11.  "  Good  by,"  said  Carl,  as  he  ran  after  his 
pigs.  They  had  found  a  bed  of  acorns,  and  were 
making  a  capital  dinner.  "  So  I  think  I  may  as 
well  eat  mine,"  said  Carl,  as  he  sat  down,  and 
pulled  his  bread  and  cheese  out  of  his  pocket. 

12.  "Master  Carl,"  said  a  little  voice  at  his 
elbow,  and  Carl  saw  a  wee  rabbit  sitting  beside 
him. 

"Now  little  rabbit,"  said  Carl,  "  I  do  hope  you're 
not  going  to  say,  '  Carl,  give  me  some  bread  and 
cheese,'  for  indeed  I  am  very  hungry,  and  there's 
not  nearly  enough  for  us  both." 

"  Then  I  must  go  without  my  dinner/'  re- 
marked the  little  rabbit. 

13.  "That's  altogether  ridiculous,"  answered 
Carl ;  "  don't  you  see  how  many  dandelions  there 
are  all  about  under  the  trees  ?" 

"But  it's  so  unwholesome  living  entirely  on 
green  food,"  said  the  rabbit;  "it  gives  me  the 
heart-burn,  I  assure  you,  and  I'm  particularly 
ordered  to  eat  bread  and  cheese." 


98 


FOURTH  READER. 


14.  Very  well,  then,"  answered  Carl,  "  you  shall 
eat  bread  and  cheese,"  and  he  fed  the  little  rabbit 
out  of  his  hand,  and  only  kept  a  very  little  piece 
for  himself. 

"  I  am  so  much  obliged  to  you,"  said  the  rabbit, 
when  she  got  up  to  go  away. 

"Well,  I  really  think  you  ought  to  be," 
answered  Carl,  "for  I  am  very  hungry  yet."  But 
the  pigs  were  moving  again,  and  Carl  walked 
after  them. 


Presently.  —  Soon,  before  long. 
Miserable.  —  Wretched,  very  poor 

and  weak. 
Unfortunate.  —  Not  fortunate,  in 

bad  luck. 
Despair.  —  Give  up  hope. 
Unreasonable.  —  Beyond  reason, 

more   than   what   most    people 

would  think  right  and  just. 
Positively.  —  Really,  certainly. 
Offence. — Fault. 
Remark.  —  State,  say. 


Ridiculous. —  Absurd,  so  droll  or 
stupid  as  to  make  one  laugh. 

Dandelion  [tooth-of-lion). —  A  com- 
mon plant  with  yellow  flower 
and  deeply  notched  leaves, 
which  look  as  if  set  round 
with    teeth. 

Unwholesome.  —  Unhealthy,  bad 
for  health. 

Entirely.  —  Wholly,  altogether. 

Particularly.  —  Specially. 

Assure.  — To  make  sure. 


A  READING  REVIEW.  — For  Expression. 

1.  Read  paragraphs  16  and  17  on  page  69.     Tell  why  you  think 
"  and  "  is  made  emphatic. 

2.  Select  couplets  (two lines)  to  read  from  "Birds  in  Summer." 

3.  In  "  King  and  Queen's  Quarrel  "  change  the  voice  to  represent 
Bertie's  speaking  and  May's.     Choose  sentences. 

4.  Express  the  begging  tones  of  the  donkey,  the  rabbit,  and  the 
worm,  in  Lesson  XXTTI. 


THROUGH    THE    WOOD.  99 


XXIV. 

de-li-cious         ri-dic-u-lous  cit-i-zens  en-ch.ant-ed 

mes-sag-es       nev-er-tiie-less       liand-some       en-ticed 


THROUGH    THE    WOOD.  — Part  II. 

1.  It  was  a  delicious  afternoon,  just  the  day 
when  it  is  worth  while  to  be  a  swineherd,  for 
the  sake  of  walking  in  a  wood.  The  sunbeams 
danced  upon  the  leaves  of  the  beech-trees,  and 
glistened  on  their  white,  smooth  trunks.  The 
lightest  possible  summer  winds  ran  up  and  down 
amongst  the  blades  of  grass,  now  and  then  rest- 
ing upon  a  flower.  White  and  colored  butter- 
flies flew  heedlessly  about,  carrying  the  messages 
of  buttercups  to  the  stumps  of  old  trees,  instead 
of  to  the  handsome  poppies  and  dandelions,  for 
whom  they  were  certainly  meant. 
■  2.  The  birds  were  not  singing;  only  a  little 
rustling  amongst  the  leaves,  a  lazy  hum  from  the 
gnats  and  dragon-flies,  and  now  and  then  a  grass- 
hopper's chirp  were  heard;  these  were  the  only 
sounds  —  except  the  grunting  of  Carl's  pigs  —  I 
had  almost  forgotten  that.  On  they  went,  through 
the  wood,  grunting,  and  Carl  after  them.     But 


100  FOURTH    READER. 

suddenly  Carl  stopped ;  he  saw  some  one  sitting 
under  a  tree ;  it  was  a  beggar,  all  in  rags,  look- 
ing so  miserable,  it  would  have  made  your  heart 
ache  to  look  at  him. 

3.  Carl  went  up  to  the  beggar,  and  said,  "  I  am 
very  sorry  for  you ;  can  I  do  anything  ?  " 

"  God  bless  you,  my  dear  little  master ! "  an- 
swered the  beggar.  "  Look  how  sore  my  feet  are 
from  walking  so  long  upon  the  stony  ground 
without  shoes  or  stockings." 

4.  "You  shall  have  mine,"  said  Carl,  sitting 
down  and  pulling  off  his  shoes  and  stockings 
directly. 

"And  from  having  no  hat  on,"  continued  the 
beggar,  "  the  sun  has  made  my  eyes  quite  weak." 

"I  see,"  answered  Carl,  "and  my  eyes  will  very 
soon  be  weak  if  I  give  you  my  hat,  but  I  will 
nevertheless ;  so  here  it  is,  and  good  by,"  said 
Carl,  as  he  put  his  hat  on  the  beggar's  head  and 
ran  on  himself  without  one. 

5.  "  Now  I  must  really  keep  my  eye  on  these 
pigs,"  said  Carl,  "  for  here  we  are  at  the  mouth  of 
the  enchanted  cave,  and  the  Cobbolds  will  be 
stealing  them  away  from  me,  if  I  don't  keep  a 
sharp  look-out." 

"  Carl !  oh,  Carl !  "said  a  voice  from  the  ground. 
"  Where  are  you  ?  "  asked  Carl. 


THROUGH   THE    WOOD.  101 

"Here,  under  this  stone,  under  the  —  " 

6.  "Speak  a  little  louder,  will  you?"  said  Carl. 
"  I  can't  hear  what  you  say,  and  I  don't  like  to 
turn  my  head  round,  for  I  must  look  at  my  pigs." 

"Here  I  am,  then,"  said  the  voice,  "almost 
crushed  beneath  this  stone  just  under  your  right 
foot ;  will  you  not  stoop  down  and  lift  up  the 
stone  and  save  me  ?  " 

7.  "  Can't  you  wait  just  till  I  have  passed  the 
cavern?  and  then  I'll  come  back  to  you,"  said 
Carl,  still  looking  at  his  pigs. 

"And  in  the  meantime,  I  shall  be  crushed  to 
death,"  answered  the  worm. 

8.  "Good  by,  my  pigs,  then,"  shouted  Carl,  as 
he  stooped  down  and  lifted  the  stone  from  the 
back  of  the  half -dead  worm. 

"I  thank  you,  Carl,"  said  the  worm,  feebly; 
"  now  go  and  look  after  your  pigs." 

"  But  they're  all  gone,"  said  Carl.  And  so  they 
were. 

9.  In  at  the  mouth  of  the  enchanted  cave  the 
little  Cobbolds  had  enticed  them  all,  just  in  that 
very  moment  when  Carl  was  lifting  up  the  stone. 

"  And  once  gone  in  there,  it's  not  a  bit  likely 
they'll  ever  come  out  again,"  said  Carl ;  "  but  I'll 
go  to  the  town  at  any  rate,  and  see  whether  the 
king  is  come." 


102  FOURTH    READER. 

10.  "What  do  you  want  here,  Carl  ?"  asked  the 
porter  at  the  gate  of  the  city. 

"  I  came  to  sell  my  pigs,"  answered  Carl. 
"  Where  are  they  ?  "   said  the  porter. 
"  I've  lost  them  all,"  answered  Carl. 

11.  "Then  come  with  me  to  the  market-place," 
said  the  porter ;  and  he  led  Carl  to  the  market- 
place, where  the  throne  was  standing  still  empty 
—  the  crown  before  it  on  the  crimson  cushion,  and 
the  people  waiting  all  round ;  but  in  front  of  the 
throne  stood  the  old  man  who  had  spoken  to  Carl 
in  the  morning,  and  besides  him  Carl  saw  the  don- 
key, the  rabbit,  the  beggar,  and  the  worm,  and  a 
whole  army  of  soldiers  who  had  been  Carl's  pigs. 

12.  "  Carl,"  asked  the  old  man,  "  where  have  you 
been  to-day?" 

"  Through  the  wood,"  answered  Carl. 

"  What  have  you  been  doing  there  ?  " 

^^  Indeed,  I  hardly  know,"  answered  Carl. 

13.  "Carl  helped  me  with  my  load  of  wood," 
said  the  donkey. 

"Carl  fed  me  with  his  own  dinner,"  said  the 
rabbit. 

"  Carl  gave  me  his  cap  and  shoes,"  said  the  beggar. 

"Carl  saved  me  from  being  crushed  to  death," 
said  the  worm. 


THE    FOX    AND    THE    CAT. 


103 


14.  "Citizens,"  said  the  old  man,  "what  do 
you  think  of  Carl  ?  " 

Then  all  the  people  shouted,  "  Carl  is  the  king ! 
Carl  is  the  king  !  " 

"And  I  never  knew  it,"  said  Carl  to  the  old 
man. 

A.  &  E.  Keary. 


Heedlessly.  —  Carelessly. 
Continued.  —  Kept  on,  went  on. 
Enchanted.  —  Charmed,  under  a 

magic  charm  or  spell. 
Nevertheless.  —  For     all     that, 

still. 
Cobbolds.  — Spirits,  goblins. 


Feeble.  —  Weak,  frail. 

Entice.  —  Lead    on,   tempt,   with 

something  that  one  would  like. 
Porter.  —  Gate-keeper. 
Soldiers  — Fighting  men. 
Citizens. — People    of    the    city, 

townsfolk. 


State  the  point  of  the  lesson,  or  what  it  was  that  made  Carl 
the  king. 


)t04c 


XXV. 

sen-si-ble         con-cealed         fo-li-age        ap-proach.-ing 
ex-pen-sive     nim-bly  af-fairs         \Arh.is-ker  clean-er 


THE    FOX    AND   THE   CAT. 

1.  One  day  a  cat  met  a  fox  in  the  wood.  "  Ah," 
she  thought,  "he  is  clever  and  sensible,  and  talked 
of  in  the  world  a  great  deal ;  I  will  speak  to  him." 

So  she  said,  quite  in  a  friendly  manner,  "  Good 


104  FOURTH    READER. 

morning,  dear  Mr.  Fox ;  how  are  you  ?  and  how 
do  afeirs  go  with  you  in  these  expensive  times  ?" 

2.  The  Fox^  full  of  pride,  looked  at  the  cat  from 
head  to  foot,  and  for  a  long  time  knew  hardly 
what  to  say  to  her.  At  last  he  said,  "  You  poor 
little  whisker-cleaner,  you  gray  old  tabby,  you 
hungry  mouse-hunter,  what  are  you  thinking  about 
to  come  to  me,  and  to  stand  there  and  ask  me  how 
I  am  going  on  ?  What  have  you  learned,  and  how 
many  tricks  do  you  know  ?  " 

3.  "  I  know  only  one  trick,"  answered  the  cat, 
meekly. 

"  And  pray  what  is  that  ?"  he  asked. 
"Well,"  she  said,  "if  the  hounds  are  behind  me, 
I  can  spring  up  into  a  tree  and  save  myself." 

4.  "  Is  that  all  ?  "  cried  the  fox ;  "  why,  I  am  mas- 
ter of  a  hundred  tricks,  and  have  over  and  above 
all  a  sackful  of  cunning ;  but  I  pity  you,  puss ;  so 
come  with  me,  and  I  will  teach  you  how  to  baffle 
both  men  and  hounds." 

5.  At  this  moment  a  hunter,  with  four  hounds, 
was  seen  approaching.  The  cat  sprang  nimbly 
up  a  tree,  and  seated  herself  on  the  highest  branch, 
where,  by  the  spreading  foliage,  she  was  quite  con- 
cealed. 

6.  "Turn  out  the  sack,  Mr.  Fox!   turn  out  the 


THE    FOX    AND    THE    CAT. 


105 


sack !  "  cried  the  cat ;  but  the  hounds  had  already 
seized  him  and  held  him  fast.  . 


7.  "  Ah,  Mr.  Fox,"  cried  the  cat,  "  your  hundred 
tricks  are  not  of  much  use  to  you ;  now  if  you 
had  only  known  one  like  mine,  you  would  not 
have  so  quickly  lost  your  life." 

J.  &  W.  Grimm. 


Expensive.  —  Costly,  causing  one 

to  spend  much  money. 
Concealed.  —  Hidden. 
Approaching.  —  Drawing  near. 
Nimbly.  —  Quickly,  lightly. 


Foliage.  —  The  leaves  of  a  tree 

or  plant. 
Baffle, — To  check  or  defeat  by 

bright  tricks  or  turns. 


106  FOURTH    READER. 

XXVI. 

A   LAUGHING    SONG. 

When  the  green  woods  laugh  with  the  voice  of  joy, 
And  the  dimpling  stream  runs  laughing  by ; 
When  the  air  does  laugh  with  our  merry  wit, 
And  the  green  hill  laughs  with  the  noise  of  it ; 

When  the  meadows  laugh  with  lively  green, 
And  the  grasshopper  laughs  in  the  merry  scene : 
When  Mary,  and  Susan,  and  Emily, 
With  their  sweet  round  mouths  sing,  "Ha,  ha,  he ! " 

When  the  painted  birds  laugh  in  the  shade. 
Where  our  table  with  cherries  and  nuts  is  spread : 
Come  live,  and  be  merry,  and  join  with  me 
To  sing  the  sweet  chorus  of  "  Ha,  ha,  he !  " 

W.  Blake. 

XXVII. 

es-pec-ial-ly       stabs       dou-ble  bar-relied       con-quer-ing 
pen-sion-er         idea         bow-ie  knife  suc-ceed-ed 


THE    BOASTING    WOLF. 

1.  A  fox  was  one  day  speaking  to  a  wolf  of  the 
great  strength  of  human  beings,  especially  men. 
"No  animal  can  stand  against  them,"  he  said, 
"unless  they  employ  craft  and  cunning."- 


THE    BOASTING   WOLF.  107 

2.  "  Then,"  said  the  wolf,  "  I  only  wish  I  could 
see  a  man ;  I  know  he  should  not  escape  me !  I 
would  never  let  him  go  free." 

"I  can  help  you  to  obtain  your  wish,"  said 
the  fox.  "If  you  come  to  me  early  to-morrow 
morning,  I  will  show  you  a  man." 

3.  The  wolf  took  care  to  be  early  enough,  and 
the  fox  led  him  to  a  hedge  through  which  he 
could  see  the  road,  and  where  the  fox  knew 
huntsmen  would  pass  during  the  day. 

First  came  an  old  pensioner. 

4.  "Is  that  a  man?"  asked  the  wolf. 

"No,"  answered  the  fox.  Not  now:  he  was 
once." 

Then  a  little  child  passed,  who  was  going  to 
school. 

6.  "  Is  that  a  man  ? "  he  asked  again. 

"No,  not  yet,"  said  the  fox;  "but  he  will  be 
one  by  and  by." 

At  last  a  hunter  appeared,  with  his  double- 
barrelled  gun  on  his  shoulder,  and  his  hunting- 
knife  by  his  side. 

6.  "  There  !  "  cried  the  fox,  "  see,  there  comes  a 
man  at  last.  I  will  leave  him  to  you  to  man- 
age, but  I  shall  run  back  to  my  hole." 

The  wolf  rushed  out  upon  the  man  at  once. 


108  FOURTH    READER. 

but  the  hunter  was  ready  for  him,  although 
when  he  saw  him,  he  said  to  himself,  "  What  a 
pity  my  gun  is  not  loaded  with  ball." 

7.  However,  he  fired  the  small  shot  in  the  ani- 
mal's face  as  he  sprang  at  him;  but  neither  the 
pain  nor  the  noise  seemed  to  frighten  the  wolf 
in  the  least.  The  hunter  fired  again ;  still  the 
wolf,  struggling  against  the  pain,  made  another 
spring,  —  this  time  furiously, — but  the  hunter, 
hastily  drawing  his  bowie-knife,  gave  him  two 
or  three  such  powerful  stabs,  that  he  ran  back 
to  the  fox  all  covered  with  blood. 

"Well,  brother  wolf,  and  have  you  succeeded 
in  conquering  a  man?" 

8.  "  Oh,"  he  cried,  "  I  had  not  the  least  idea  of 
a  man's  strength ;  first  he  took  a  stick  from  his 
shoulder  and  blew  something  in  my  face,  which 
tingled  dreadfully ;  and  before  I  could  get  closer 
to  him,  he  puffed  again  through  his  stick,  and 
there  came  a  flash  of  lightning,  and  something 
struck  my  nose  like  hailstones.  I  would  not 
give  in,  but  rushed  again  upon  him.  In  a  mo- 
ment he  pulled  a  white  rib  out  of  his  body,  and 
gave  me  such  dreadful  cuts  with  it  that  I  be- 
lieve I  must  lie  here  and  die." 

9.  "See  now,"  said  the  fox,  "how  foolish  it  is 


"that's  not  the  way  at  sea."  109 

to   boast.      You   have   thrown   your  axe    so    far 
that  you  cannot  fetch  it  back." 

J.  &  W.  Grimm. 


Pensioner.  —  One  that  receives  a 
pension,  that  is,  some  pay  in 
consideration  of  former  ser- 
vices; a  discharged  soldier  or 
sailor. 


Manage.  —  Deal  with,  control. 

Bowie-knife.  —  Long  hunting- 
knife. 

Furiously.  —  With  fury,  with 
great  rage. 


XXVIII. 

scorctL-ing  w^atcli-virord  re-sound  blaz-ing 


"THAT'S    NOT   THE   WAY    AT   SEA." 

He  stood  upon  the  fiery  deck. 

Our  captain  kind  and  brave ! 
He  would  not  leave  the  burning  wreck, 

While  there  was  one  to  save. 
We  wanted  him  to  go  before, 

And  we  would  f ollov/  fast ; 
We  could  not  bear  to  leave  him  there, 

Beside  the  blazing  mast. 
But  his  voice  rang  out  in  a  cheery  shout, 

And  noble  words  spoke  he  — 
"  That's  not  the  way  at  sea,  my  boys, 

That's  not  the  way  at  sea !  " 


no 


FOURTH  READER. 


So.  each  one  did  as  he  was  bid, 
And  into  the  boats  we  passed, 

While  closer  came  the  scorching  flame, 
And  our  captain  was  the  last. 


Yet  once  again  he  dared  his  life, 

One  little  lad  to  save ; 
Then  we  pulled  to  shore  from  the  blaze  and 
roar, 

With  our  captain  kind  and  brave. 


''that's  not  the  way  at  sea. 


Ill 


In  the  face  of  death,  with  its  fiery  breathy 
He  had  stood,  and  so  would  we ! 

For  that's  the  way  at  sea,  my  boys. 
For  that's  the  way  at  sea. 

Now  let  the  noble  words  resound, 

And  echo  far  and  free, 
Wherever  English  hearts  are  found, 

On  English  shore  or  sea. 
The  iron  nerve  of  duty,  joined 

With  golden  vein  of  love. 
Can  dare  to  do,  and  dare  to  wait, 

With  courage  from  above. 
Our  captain's  shout  among  the  flames 

A  watchword  long  shall  be  — 
"  That's  not  the  way  at  sea,  my  boys. 

That's  not  the  way  at  sea." 

F.  R.  Havergal. 


Pulled.  —  Rowed. 

Resound.  —  Sound,  or  be  heard, 
on  all  sides. 

Watchword.  —  A  word  used  by- 
soldiers  as  a  sign  by  which  to 
know  each   other ;  hence,   any 


phrase  often  passed  from  mouth 
to  mouth. 
Iron  nerve  .  .  .  golden  vein.  — 
The  sense  of  duty  and  the  feel- 
ing of  love  are  to  the  spirit 
wliat  nerves  and  veins  are  to 
the  body. 


112  FOURTH    READER. 


XXIX. 

carry  sheaf  gold  child 

car-ried  sheaves  gold-en  chil-dren 

Change  y  to  i  and  add  ed  in  bury,  hurry,  marry,  study. 
Change  f  to  v  and  add  es  in  leaf,  thief,  beef,  elf. 


GLEANERS. 


The  wheat  has  stood  like  a  golden  sea, 

And  has  flashed  and  danced  in  the  sun, 
And  the  reapers  have  toiled  with  hearts  full  of  glee. 
Till  at  length  their  work  is  done ! 
But  it's  heigh-ho, 
And  it's  low,  low, 
Dying  wheat-ears  all  in  a  row ! 

The  sheaves  of  wheat  have  been  carried  away. 

But  a  few  poor  ears  remain. 
And  the  children  glean  all  through  the  day, 
Seeking  the  golden  grain  ; 
But  it's  heigh-ho. 
And  it's  slow,  slow, 
Little  to  find  and  far  to  go ! 

The  even  has  come  with  its  rest  so  sweet 
To  laborers  far  and  wide. 


THE    BASKET-WOMAN.  113 

So  the  children  tie  up  the  golden  wheat, 

And  carry  it  home  with  pride ; 

And  it's  heigh-ho, 

Away  they  go  — 

Hearts   that   are  light   though   footsteps    be 

slow. 

George  Weatherly. 

ooj^cx^ 


XXX. 

mis-er-a-ble  car-riage  earn-ing  oblig-ing 

gin-ger-bread       i-dle-ness         scotcb-ing  Dun-sta-ble 

black-ber-ries      a-mused  hin-ders  Bed-ford-sbire 


THE    BASKET-WOMAN.  — Part  I. 

1.  At  the  foot  of  a  steep,  slippery  white  hill, 
near  Dunstable  in  Bedfordshire,  there  is  a  hut 
which  looks  so  miserable  that  the  traveller  is 
surprised  to  see  smoke  coming  out  of  the  chim- 
ney, and  to  find  that  human  beings  live  there. 
But  it  is  the  home  of  an  old  woman,  and  with 
her  live  a  little  boy  and  girl,  the  children  of  a 
beggar,  who  died  and  left  them  homeless  and 
friendless,  so  that  they  were  very  grateful  when 
the  old  woman  took  pity  upon  them,  and  brought 
them  into  her  hut. 


114 


FOURTH  READER. 


2.  She  had  not  much  to  give,  but  what  she  had 
she  gave  willingly ;  and  she  worked  very  hard  at 
her  knitting  and  her  spinning-wheel  to  support 
the  poor  children  and  herself. 

3.  Another  way  that  she  had 
of  earning  money  was  to  fol- 
low carriages  as  they  went  up 
the  steep  hill,  and  when  the 
horses  stopped  to  rest,  she 
would  come  up  and  put  stones 
under  the  hind  wheels,  st)  that 
the  carriage  could  not  roll  back. 

4.  The  little  boy  and  girl, 
whose  names  were  Paul  and 
Anne,  liked  very  much  to 
stand  beside  the  kind  old  wo- 
man's spinning-wheel,  and  talk 
to  her.  In  this  way  they 
learned  some  good  lessons, 
which  she  hoped  they  would 
never  forget.  She  taught  them 
to  hate  idleness  and  wish  to  be 

useful,  to  tell  the  truth,  and  to  be  honest  in  the 
very  smallest  things. 

5.  One  evening  Paul  said  to  her,  "  Grand- 
mother/' for  so  they  called  her,  '^how  often  you 


THE    BASKET-WOMAN.  115 

have  to  get  up  from  your  wheel,  and  to  follow  the 
carriages  up  that  steep  hill,  to  put  stones  under 
the  wheels.  The  people  in  the  carriages  give  you 
a  penny  or  a  halfpenny  then,  don't  they  ?  " 

6.  "  Yes,  child,"  said  the  old  woman. 

"  But  it  is  very  hard  work  for  you,  and  it  hin- 
ders your  spinning.  Now  if  we  could  only  do  it 
for  you,  we  could  bring  you  home  all  the  pence 
we  got.  Do  try  us,  grandmother ;  try  us  to-mor- 
row." 

7.  "  Well,  I  will  try  you,"  said  the  old  woman ; 
"  but  first  of  all  I  must  go  with  you  for  a  few 
times,  for  fear  you  should  be  hurt  by  the  wheels." 
So  the  next  day  the  little  boy  and  girl  went  with 
the  old  woman,  and  she  showed  the  boy  how  to 
put  the  stones. 

8.  "This  is  called  scotching  the  wheels,"  she 
said ;  and  she  gave  Paul's  hat  to  Anne  to  hold  up 
to  the  ladies.  After  a  time  she  went  indoors  to 
her  spinning,  and  the  children  stayed  on  the  hill. 
A  great  many  carriages  passed,  and  Paul's  hat  was 
quite  heavy  with  pence  and  halfpence. 

9.  The  old  woman  was  pleased  when  they  came 
in,  and  said  her  spinning  had  got  on  nicely. 

"  But,  Paul,  what  has  happened  to  your  hand  ?  " 
"  I  got  a  little  pinch,"  said  Paul,  "  but  it  does 


116  FOURTH    READER. 

not  hurt  much.  And,  grandmother,  if  you  will 
give  me  the  handle  of  your  broken  crutch,  and 
that  block  of  wood  in  the  corner,  which  is  of  no 
use,  I  shall  never  be  hurt  again." 

'-  Take  them,  dear,"  said  the  old  woman. 

Paul  went  to  work,  and  fastened  one  end  of  the 
pole  into  the  block  of  wood,  so  that  he  made  a 
thing  shaped  like  a  broom. 

10.  "  Look,  grandmother,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  call 
this  thing  my  scotcher.  I  shall  always  scotch  the 
wheels  with  it,  and  then  my  hands  will  be  safe  at 
the  end  of  this  long  handle.  And  Anne  need 
never  have  the  trouble  of  carrying  up  stones  for 
me.  I  wish  it  was  morning,  and  that  a  carriage 
would  come  for  me  to  try  my  scotcher  upon." 

"And  I  hope,"  said  little  Anne,  "that  as  many 
will  come  to-morrow,  and  that  we  shall  get  plenty 
of  halfpence  for  you,  grandmother." 

11.  "  I  hope  you  will,"  said  the  old  woman,  "  for 
I  mean  you  to  have  all  the  pence  you  get  to- 
morrow for  yourselves,  so  that  you  can  buy  some 
gingerbread  or  some  ripe  plums,  and  have  a  treat 
for  once  in  a  way." 

"  We'll  bring  her  home  some  gingerbread,  won't 
we,  brother?"  whispered  little  Anne. 

Paul  and  Anne  got  up  at  five  next  morning 


THE   BASKET-WOMAN. 


117 


to  be  ready  for  carriages,  but  they  had  to  wait 
some  time. 

12.  At  last  one  came,  and  when  it  was  half- 


way up  the  hill,  the  driver  called  to  Paul  to 
scotch  the  wheels.  He  put  his  scotcher  behind 
them,  and  found  it   answered   perfectly.      Many 


118  FOURTH    READER. 

carriages  went  by,  and  Paul  and  Anne  got  plenty 
of  halfpence.  When  it  grew  dusk,  Anne  said, 
"•  Come  home  now,  Paul ;  I  don't  think  any  more 
carriages  will  come  to-night." 

13.  "Not  yet,"  said  Paul;  "but  you  shall  watch 
for  carriages  for  a  few  minutes,  and  I  will  go 
and  get  you  some  blackberries  in  this  field. 
Call  me  quickly  if  a  carriage  comes." 

Anne  waited  a  long  time,  as  she  thought,  but 
no  carriage  came ;  at  last  she  went  to  her 
brother,  "Oh,  Paul,  I  am  sadly  tired;  do  come." 

"  Oh,  no ! "  said  Paul,  "  here  are  some  black- 
berries for  you;  wait  a  little  longer." 

14.  Anne  was  very  obliging,  and  she  ran  back 
to  the  hill.  At  once  she  heard  the  noise  of  a 
carriage. 

"  Paul,  Paul ! "  she  cried,  and  they  saw  four 
carriages  coming  by,  one  after  the  other. 

Anne  was  so  amused  watching  the  scotcher 
at.  work,  that  she  forgot  all  about  halfpence,  till 
a  little  girl  called  out  to  her  from  the  window 
of  one  of  the  carriages. 

"Here  are  some  halfpence  for  you,"  said  the 
little  girl,  and  the  money  was  thrown  to  her 
from  each  carriage  in  turn.  Then  they  drove 
away. 


THE    BASKET-WOMAN.  119 


Dunstable  is  a  town,  and  Bedford- 
shire a  county,  of  England. 

Crutch.  —  A  strong  staff  used  by 
lame  people  to  help  them  to 
walk. 

Amused.  —  Entertained. 

Spinning-wheel.  —  A  wheel  for 
spinning  cotton,  flax,  or  wool 


into    thread    for    weaving    or 

spinning. 
A    penny.  —  An     English     coin 

worth  about  two  cents. 
Obliging.  —  Willing     to     please 

others. 
Support.  —  To    provide    for,     to 

maintain. 


3j*ic 


XXXI. 


stiiv-er  qui-et-ly 

rheu-ma-tisin    blan-ket 
lug-gage  liost-ler 


dif-fi-cult 

gui-nea 

val-ue 

tempt-ing 

ad-vice 

doz-en 

THE    BASKET-WOMAN.  — Part   II. 

1.  Paul  and  Anne  sat  down  by  the  roadside  to 
count  their  treasure,  as  soon  as  the  carriages 
were  safely  at  the  top  of  the  hill.  The  money 
they  had  already  taken  was  hidden  in  a  safe 
hole  by  the  roadside,  but  they  began  by  count- 
ing what  was  in  the  hat. 

2.  "  One,  two,  three,  four  halfpence  !  "  said  Paul. 
"But,  oh,  brother,  look  at  this!"    said  Anne; 

"this  is  not  the  same  as  the  other  halfpence." 

"No,  indeed  it  is  not,"  said  Paul;  "it  is  no  half- 
penny ;  it  is  a  guinea,  a  bright  golden  guinea ! " 

"Is  it?"  said  Anne,  who  had  never  seen  a 
guinea  in  her  life  before,  and  did  not   know  its 


120  FOURTH   READER. 

value.  "  Will  it  do  as  well  as  a  halfpenny  to 
buy  gingerbread?  I'll  run  and  ask  the  woman 
at  the  fruit-stall.     Shall  I  ?  " 

3.  "No,  no,"  said  Paul,  "you  need  not  ask 
any  woman,  or  anybody  but  me.  I  can  tell  you 
all  about  it  quite  as  well  as  anybody  in  the 
whole  world." 

"  The  whole  world !  Oh,  Paul,  you  forget ! 
not  so  well  as  grandmother ! " 

"Why,  not  so  well  as  grandmother,  perhaps; 
but,  Anne,  I  can  tell  you  that  you  must  not  talk 
yourself,  but  listen  to  me  quietly,  or  else  you  will 
not  understand  what  I  am  going  to  tell  you ;  for 
I  can  tell  you  that  I  don't  think  I  quite  under- 
stood it  myself,  Anne,  the  first  time  grandmother 
told  it  to  me,  though  I  stood  stock  still  and 
listened  with  all  my  might." 

4.  After  this  speech,  Anne  looked  very  grave, 
and  expected  to  hear  something  very  difficult  to 
understand. 

Nowadays  we  seldom  see  a  guinea,  but  at  the 
time  of  this  story  guineas  were  used  instead  of 
sovereigns.  They  were  worth  twenty-one  shil- 
lings. Paul  told  Anne  that  with  a  guinea  she 
could  buy  two  hundred  and  fifty-two  times  as 
many  plums  as  she  could  get  for  a  penny. 


THE    BASKET-WOMAN.  121 

5.  "  Why,  Paul/'  said  Anne,  "  you  know  the 
fruit-woman  said  she  would  give  us  a  dozen 
plums  for  a  penny.  Now,  for  this  little  guinea 
would  she  give  us  two  hundred  and  fifty-two 
dozen  ?" 

^^  If  she  has  so  many,  and  we  like  to  have  so 
many,  she  will,"  said  Paul ;  "  but  I  think  we 
should  not  like  to  have  two  hundred  and  fifty- 
two  dozen  of  plums;  we  could  not  eat  such  a 
number." 

"But  we  could  give  some  of  them  to  grand- 
mother," said  Anne. 

6.  "  But  still  there  would  be  too  many  for  her 
and  for  us,"  said  Paul,  "  and  when  we  had  eaten 
the  plums,  there  would  be  an  end  of  the  pleasure. 
But  now  I  will  tell  you  what  I  am  thinking  of, 
Anne,  that  we  might  buy  something  for  grand- 
mother that  would  be  very  useful  to  her  indeed 
with  this  guinea ;  something  that  would  last  a 
great  while." 

"What  sort  of  thing?"  asked  little  Anne. 

7.  "  Something  that  she  said  she  wanted  very 
much  last  winter  when  she  was  so  ill  with  rheu- 
matism ;  something  that  she  said  yesterday,  when 
you  were  making  her  bed,  she  hoped  she  might 
be  able  to  buy  before  next  winter." 


122  FOUKTH    READER. 

"I  know,  I  know  what  you  mean,"  cried  Anne, 
"a  blanket.  Oh,  yes,  Paul,  that  will  be  much 
better  than  plums ;  do  let  us  buy  a  blanket  for 
her ;  how  glad  she  will  be  to  see  it !  I  will  make 
her  bed  with  the  new  blanket,  and  then  bring 
her  to  look  at  it.  But,  Paul,  how  shall  we  buy  a 
blanket  ?     Where  are  blankets  to  be  got  ? " 

8.  "  Leave  that  to  me ;  I'll  manage  that ;  I 
know  where  blankets  can  be  got.  I  saw  one 
hanging  out  of  a  shop  the  day  I  went  last  to 
Dunstable." 

"  You  have  seen  a  great  many  things  at  Dun- 
stable." 

"  Yes,  a  great  many ;  but  I  never  saw  anything 
there  or  anywhere  else  that  I  wished  for  half  so 
much  as  I  did  for  the  blanket  for  grandmother. 
Do  you  remember  how  she  used  to  shiver  with 
the  cold  last  winter  ?  I  will  buy  the  blanket 
to-morrow ;  I  am  going  to  Dunstable  with  her 
spinning." 

9.  ''  And  you  will  bring  the  blanket  to  me,  and 
I  will  make  the  bed  very  neatly ;  that  will  be  all 
right,  all  happy,"  said  Anne,  clapping  her  hands. 

"  But  stay,  hush ;  don't  clap  your  hands  so, 
Anne.  It  will  not  be  all  happy,  I  am  afraid," 
said  Paul,  and  he  began  to  look  very  grave  ;  "  it 


THE    BASKET-WOMAN.  123 

will  not  be  all  right,  I  am  afraid,  for  there  is  one 
thing  we  have  neither  of  us  thought  of,  but  that 
we  ought  to  think  of. .  We  cannot  buy  the  blan- 
ket, I  am  afraid." 

"  Why,  Paul,  why  ?  " 

"  Because  I  do  not  think  this  guinea  is  honestly 
ours,"  answered  Paul. 


10.  "  Why  is  not  the  guinea  honestly  ours  ? " 
asked  Anne.  "  I  am  sure  it  is,  for  it  was  given 
to  us,  and  grandmother  said  we  were  to  have  all 
that  was  given  us  to-day  for  our  own." 

"  But  who  gave  it  to  you,  Anne  ?  " 

"  Some  of  the  people  in  the  carriages,  Paul. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  little  rosy  girl." 

"  No,"  said  Paul ;  "  for  when  she  called  you  to 
the  carriage  she  said,  ^Here  are  some  halfpence 


124  FOURTH    READER. 

for  you.'     If  she  gave  you   the   guinea,  it  must 
have  been  a  mistake." 

11.  "But  perhaps  some  of  the  other  people  gave 
it  me.  There  was  a  gentleman  reading  in  one 
carriage,  and  a  lady,  who  looked  kindly  at  me ; 
then  the  gentleman  put  down  his  book  and  looked 
out  of  the  window.  He  looked  at  your  scotcher, 
and  asked  if  it  was  your  own  making,  and  when 
I  said  yes,  and  told  him  I  was  your  sister,  he 
smiled  and  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  and  threw 
a  handful  of  halfpence  into  the  hat.  I  daresay 
he  gave  us  the  guinea,  because  he  liked  your 
scotcher  so  much." 

12.  "Why,"  said  Paul,  "that  might  be,  but  I 
wish  I  could  be  sure  of  it." 

"  Then,  as  we  are  not  sure,  had  we  not  better 
go  and  ask  grandmother  what  she  thinks  about 
it?"  said  Anne. 

Paul  thought  this  very  good  advice ;  he  went 
with  his  sister  directly  to  the  grandmother,  showed 
her  the  guinea,  and  told  her  about  it. 

13.  "  My  dear  honest  children,"  she  said,  "  I  am 
very  glad  you  did  not  buy  either  the  blanket  or 
the  plums ;  I  am  sure  it  was  given  by  mistake, 
and  I  should  like  you  to  go  to  Dunstable,  and  find 
out  the  person  who  gave  it  you.     It  is  now  so 


THE    BASKET-WOMAN.  125 

late  in  the  evening  that  most  likely  the  travellers 
are  sleeping  there.  You  must  go  and  try  to  find 
the  gentleman  who  was  reading." 

14.  "  Oh,  I  know  a  good  way  of  finding  him ! " 
cried  Paul.  "  I  am  so  glad  you  taught  me  to  read, 
grandmother,  for  I  read  '  John  Nelson '  on  the  car- 
riage. That  is  the  innkeeper's  name,  I  know; 
and  it  was  a  dark  green  carriage  with  red  wheels. 
Come,  Anne,  let  us  set  off  and  find  it  before  it  gets 
quite  dark." 

15.  The  children  set  off,  and  walked  bravely 
past  the  tempting  stall,  rich  in  gingerbread  and 
ripe  plums,  but  at  the  blanket  shop  Paul  could 
not  help  saying,  — 

"  It  is  a  great  pity  the  guinea  is  not  ours,  but 
we  are  doing  what  is  honest,  and  that  is  a  com- 
fort.    Here  we  are  at  the  Dun  Cow." 

'^  I  see  no  cow,"  said  Anne. 

16.  "  Look  at  the  picture  over  your  head.  But  we 
must  not  stop  now ;  I  want  to  find  that  carriage." 

There  was  a  great  noise  and  bustle  in  the  inn 
yard;  horses  were  being  rubbed  down,  carriages 
rolled  into  coach-houses,  luggage  carried  about. 

"  What  now,  what  business  have  you  here  ? " 
said  a  waiter,  who  almost  ran  over  Paul.  "  Walk 
off  at  once." 


126 


FOURTH    READER. 


17.  "  Please  let  me  stay  a  few  minutes,  and  look 
for  a  green  carriage  with  red  wheels,  and  Mr.  John 
Nelson's  name  on  it,"  begged  Paul. 

"  What  should  you  know  about  green  carriages  ?  " 
said  the  waiter,  and  was  just  going  to  turn  Paul 
out  of  the  yard,  when  a  hostler  caught  his  arm. 

"Maybe  the  child  has  some  business,"  he  said. 


Hostler.  —  A  man  who  takes  care 
of  the  horses  at  an  inn. 


Dun.  —  Of  a  dull  brown  color. 
The  Dun  Cow  was  the  picture 
that  gave  the  name  to  the  inn. 


>>®<c 


po-w-der-ing 

land-la-dy 

cu-ri-ous 


XXXII. 


chaise 
cla-ret 
dis-missed 


scliol-ars 
pas-sage 
em-ployed 


af-ford 

a-dop-ted 

"wliis-pered 


THE    BASKET-WOMAN.  — Part  III. 

1.  The  waiter  went  off  to  answer  a  bell,  and 
Paul  told  his  story  to  the  hostler,  who  helped  him 
to  find  the  chaise,  and  the  man  who  had  driven 
it.  This  man  said  that  he  was  just  going  to  the 
gentleman  to  be  paid,  and  would  take  the  guinea 
with  him. 


THE   BASKET-WOMAN. 


127 


"No,"  said  Paul,  "we  should  like  to  give  it 
back  ourselves." 

2.  "  They  have  a  right  to  do  that,"  said  the 
hostler,  and  the    driver   went   away,  telling   the 


children  to  wait  in  the  passage.  A  tidy  woman 
was  standing  there  too,  with  two  huge  straw  bas- 
kets beside  her. 

A  man  who  was  pushing  his  way  in,  carrying  a 


128  FOURTH    READER. 

string  of  dead  larks  on  a  pole,  kicked  down  one 
of  the  baskets,  which  was  a  little  in  the  way,  and 
all  that  were  in  it  —  bright  straw  hats,  boxes,  and 
slippers — were  thrown  upon  the  dirty  ground. 

"  Oh,  they  will  all  be  spoiled !  "  cried  the  woman ; 
but  Paul  and  Anne  ran  to  help  her. 

3.  ^'  Do  let  us  pick  them  up  for  you,"  they  said ; 
and  when  the  things  were  all  in  the  basket  again, 
they  asked  how  such  pretty  things  could  be  made 
of  straw.  But  before  the  woman  could  answer, 
a  gentleman's  servant  came  out.  Clapping  Paul 
on  the  back,  he  said,  — 

"Well,  my  little  chap,  I  hear  I  gave  you  a 
guinea  for  a  halfpenny." 

"  No,  Paul,"  said  Anne,  "  that  is  not  the  gentle- 
man." 

4.  "Pooh,  child,  it  is  all  the  same,"  said  the 
man.  "  I  came  in  that  carriage  with  my  master, 
who  was  reading,  But  he  is  tired  and  wants  to 
go  to  bed ;  so  you  are  to  give  me  the  guinea." 

Paul  was  too  honest  to  expect  a  lie ;  so  he  gave 
up  the  bright  guinea  at  once. 

5.  "  Here  is  a  sixpence  apiece  for  you,  and  good 
night,"  said  the  man,  and  pushed  the  children  out ; 
but  the  basket-woman  whispered,  "  Wait  for  me  in 
the  street." 


THE    BASKET-WOMAN^.  129 

"Mrs.  Landlady,"  said  the  servant,  "let  me 
have  toasted  larks  for  my  supper,  please,  and  a 
bottle  of  claret.     Do  you  hear,  waiter  ?  " 

6.  "Larks  and  claret,"  said  the  basket-woman 
to  herself,  as  she  saw  the  driver  and  the  servant 
whisper  to  each  other.  She  waited  quietly  in  the 
passage. 

"  Waiter !  Joe,  Joe ! "  called  the  landlady, 
"  carry  in  those  tarts  at  once  to  the  company  in 
the  best  room." 

7.  "  Coming,  ma'am,"  answered  the  waiter,  and 
as  the  door  was  opened,  the  basket-woman  could 
see  a  great  many  ladies  and  gentlemen,  and  some 
children,  sitting  at  supper. 

"  Ay,"  whispered  the  landlady,  "  there  are  plenty 
of  people  there  who  could  afford  to  buy  your 
goods,  if  you  could  only  be  called  in.  Pray,  now 
what  would  you  charge  me  for  these  little  straw 
mats  to  put  under  my  dishes  ?" 

8.  The  woman  let  her  have  the  mats  cheap,  and 
after  the  gay  party  had  finished  supper,  the  land- 
lady went  in  and  asked  if  they  would  like  to  see 
any  of  the  curious  Dunstable  straw-work. 

So  the  basket-woman  was  called  in.  "Oh, 
papa,"  cried  a  little  girl,  "here  are  some  straw 
shoes   that   would   just    fit    you;    what  are  they 


130  FOURTH   EEADER. 

for  ?     I  do  not  think  straw  shoes  would  be  of  much 
use." 

9.  "  They  are  to  wear  when  people  are  powder- 
ing their  hair,  dear;  but  I  am  afraid  I  must  not 
spend  much  to-night,  for  I  carelessly  threw  away 
a  guinea  to-day,"  said  her  father. 

"  Oh !  the  guinea  that  you  threw  to  the  little 
girl  on  Chalk  Hill.  She  was  not  a  very  honest 
little  girl,  was  she,  papa?  or  she  would  have  run 
after  the  carriage  with  it." 

10.  "Oh,  miss  —  ma'am  —  sir!  may  I  speak  a 
word?"  cried  the  basket-woman.  "A  little  boy 
and  girl  have  just  been  asking  for  a  gentleman 
who  gave  them  a  guinea  by  mistake,  and,  not  five 
minutes  ago,  I  saw  the  little  boy  give  it  to  a  gen- 
tleman's servant,  who  said  his  master  desired  him 
to  take  it." 

"  This  is  some  mistake  or  some  trick,"  said  the 
gentleman ;  "  where  are  the  children  ?  I  must  see 
them.  Send  after  them."  "I  will  go  for  them 
myself,"  said  the  basket-woman  j  "  I  told  them  to 
wait  in  the  street." 

11.  Paul  and  Anne  were  soon  brought  in,  and 
Anne  knew  the  gentleman  at  once  to  be  the  same 
who  put  down  his  book  and  admired  the  scotcher. 
It  happened  that  the  guinea  was  a  light  one,  and 


THE    BASKET-WOMAN.  131 

the  gentleman  had  marked  it.  He  soon  found  the 
dishonest  servant  at  his  supper  of  larks  and  claret, 
and  made  him  pull  out  all  the  money  he  had  about 
him. 

12.  There  was  the  marked  coin,  and  the  servant 
was  at  once  dismissed.  "Now,  little  honest  girl," 
said  the  gentleman  to  Anne,  "  tell  me  who  you  are 
and  what  you  wish  for  most  in  the  world." 

With  one  voice  the  two  children  cried,  "We 
want  a  blanket  for  grandmother  most ! " 

"  She  is  not  really  our  grandmother,  sir,  but  she 
is  just  as  good  to  us,"  said  Paul.  "  She  taught 
me  to  read  and  Anne  to  knit,  and  she  has  the 
rheumatism  very  badly  in  the  winter,  and  we  did 
wish  her  to  have  a  new  blanket,  sir ! " 

13.  "  She  shall  have  it,"  said  the  gentleman, 
"  and  I  will  do  something  more  for  you.  Do  you 
like  best  to  be  employed  or  idle  ?" 

"  We  like  to  have  something  to  do  always,  sir," 
said  Paul,  "  but  sometimes  we  are  forced  to  be  idle, 
for  grandmother  has  not  always  work  for  us  that 
we  can  do  well." 

"Would  you  like  to  learn  how  to  make  such 
baskets  as  these  ?  "  said  the  gentleman,  pointing  to 
one  of  the  Dunstable  straw  baskets. 

14.  "  Oh,  very  much,"  said  Paul.    "Very  much," 


132 


FOURTH  READER. 


said  Anne.  "Then  I  should  like  to  teach  you/' 
said  the  basket-woman ;  "  for  I  am  quite  sure  you 
would  behave  honestly  to  me." 

The  gentleman  put  a  guinea  into  the  kind 
woman's  hand,  and  told  her  he  knew  she  could 
not  afford  to  teach  her  trade  for  nothing. 

"  I  shall  come  through  Dunstable  again  in  a  few 
months,  and  I  hope  to  see  that  you  and  your  schol- 
ars get  on  well.  If  I  find  that  you  do,  I  will  do 
something  more  for  you,"  he  said. 

15.  "But,"  said  Anne,  "we  must  go  and  tell 
grandmother  about  all  this." 

"  It  is  a  fine  moonlight  night,"  said  the  basket- 
woman,  "and  I  will  walk  with  you  myself  and 
see  you  safe  home." 

The  gentleman  kept  them  for  a  few  minutes 
longer,  as  he  had  sent  to  buy  the  blanket.  "  Your 
grandmother  will  sleep  well  under  this  good  blan- 
ket, I  hope,"  he  said,  as  he  gave  it  into  Paul's 
arms.    "  It  has  been  earned  for  her  by  the  honesty 

of  her  adopted  children." 

Miss  Edgworth  {Adapted). 


Dismissed.  —  Sent  away  from  his 

service. 
Adopted.  —  Not  her  own  children, 

but  treated  as  such. 
Claret.  —  A  kind  of  wine. 


Powdering.  —  Sprinkling  the  hair 
with  starch  powder  to  make  it 
quite  white,  as  was  then  the 
fashion. 

Chaise.  —  A  two-wheeled  carriage. 


BLUNDER.  133 


XXXIII. 


in-quir-ing         squab-bling         en-tire-ly        reg-u-la-tions 
mi-ser-ly  im-pa-tient  ac-quire  ge-og-ra-pliy 

ac-cord-ing        pro-fes-sion         del-i-cate        knowl-edge 


BLUNDER.  — Part  I. 

1.  Blunder  was  going  to  the  Wishing-Gate,  to 
wish  for  a  pair  of  Shetland  ponies,  and  a  little 
coach  like  Tom  Thumb's.  And  of  course  you  can 
have  your  wish,  if  you  once  get  there.  But  the 
thing  is  to  find  it ;  for  it  is  not,  as  you  imagine,  a 
great  gate  with  a  tall  marble  pillar  on  each  side, 
and  a  sign  over  the  top,  like  this  —  WISHING- 
GATE  —  but  just  an  old  stile  made  of  three  sticks. 

2.  Put  up  two  fingers,  cross  them  on  the  top 
with  another  finger,  and  you  have  it  exactly  —  the 
way  it  looks,  I  mean  —  a  worm-eaten  stile,  in  a 
meadow ;  and  as  there  are  plenty  of  old  stiles  in 
meadows,  how  are  you  to  know  which  is  the  one  ? 

3.  Blunder's  fairy  godmother  knew,  but  then 
she  could  not  tell  him,  for  that  was  not  according 
to  fairy  rules  and  regulations.  She  could  only 
direct  him  to  follow  the  road,  and  ask  the  way  of 
the  first  owl  he  met ;  and  over  and  over  she 
charged  him,  for  Blunder  was  a  very  careless  little 


134  FOURTH    READER. 

hoy,  and  seldom  found  anything,  "Be  sure  you 
don't  miss  him  —  be  sure  you  don't  pass  him  by." 
4.  And  so  far  Blunder  had  come  on  very  well, 
for  the  road  was  straight ;  but  at  the  turn  it 
forked.  Should  he  go  through  the  wood,  or  turn 
to  the  right?     There  was  an  owl  nodding  in  a 


tall  oak-tree,  the  first  owl  Blunder  had  seen ;  but 
he  was  a  little  afraid  to  wake  him  up,  for  Blun- 
der's fairy  godmother  had  told  him  that  this  was 
a  very  wise  fellow,  who  sat  up  all  night  to  study 
the  habits  of  frogs  and  mice,  and  knew  everything 
but  what  went  on  in  the  daylight  under  his  nose ; 
and  he  could  think  of  nothing  better  to  say  to 
this  very  wise  fellow  than  "Good  Mr.  Owl,  will 


BLUNDER.  135 

you   please   show   me   the  way  to   the  Wishing- 
Gate?" 

5.  "  Eh !  what's  that  ?  '*  cried  the  owl,  starting 
out  of  his  nap.     "  Have  you  brought  me  a  frog  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Blunder,  "I  did  not  know  that  you 
would  like  one.  Can  you  tell  me  the  way  to  the 
Wishing-Gate?" 

6.  "  Wishing-Gate  !  Wishing-Gate  ! "  hooted  the 
owl,  very  angry.  "  Winks  and  naps !  how  dare 
you  disturb  me  for  such  a  thing  as  that  ?  Do  you 
take  me  for  a  mile-stone !  Follow  your  nose,  sir, 
follow  your  nose  !  "  —  and,  ruffling  up  his  feathers, 
the  owl  was  asleep  again  in  a  moment. 

7.  But  how  could  Blunder  follow  his  nose  ?  His 
nose  would  turn  to  the  right,  or 

take  him  through  the  woods,  which- 
ever way  his  legs  went,  and  "  what 
was  the   use  of   asking  the  owl," 
thought  Blunder,  "  if  this  was  all  ?  " 
While   he  hesitated,  a 
squirrel  came  running 
down    the    path,    and, 
seeing  Blunder,  stopped 
short  with  a  little  squeak. 

8.  "  Good  Mrs.  Browny,"  said  Blunder,  "  can 
you  tell  me  the  way  to  the  Wishing-Gate  ?  " 


136  FOURTH   READER. 

"  I  can  t,  indeed/'  answered  the  squirrel,  politely. 
"What  with  getting  in  nuts,  and  the  care  of  a 
young  family,  I  have  so  little  time  to  visit  any- 
thing! But  if  you  will  follow  the  brook,  you 
will  find  an  old  water-sprite  under  a  slanting 
stone,  over  which  the  water  pours  all  day  with 
a  noise  like  wabble !  wabble !  He,  I  have  no 
doubt,  can  tell  you  all  about  it.  You  will  know 
him,  for  he  does  nothing  but  grumble  about  the 
good  old  times  when  a  brook  would  have  dried 

up   sooner    than    turn    a 
mill-wheel." 

9.  So  Blunder  went  on 
up  the  brook,  and  seeing 
nothing  of  the  water- 
sprite,  or  the  slanting 
stone,  was  just  saying  to 
himself,  "I  am  sure  I  don't  know  where  he  is 
—  I  can't  find  it,"  when  he  spied  a  frog  sitting 
on  a  wet  stone. 

"  Mr.  Frog,"  asked  Blunder,  "  can  you  tell  me 
the  way  to  the  Wishing-Gate  ?  " 

10.  "I  cannot,"  said  the  frog.  "I  am  very 
sorry,  but  the  fact  is,  I  am  an  artist.  Young  as 
I  am,  my  voice  is  already  remarked  at  our  con- 
certs, and    I   devote    myself    so   entirely  to   my 


BLUNDER.  137 

profession  of  music,  that  I  have  no  time  to 
acquire  general  knowledge.  But  in  a  pine-tree 
beyond,  you  will  find  an  old  crow,  who,  I  am 
quite  sure,  can  show  you  the  way,  as  he  is  a  trav- 
eller, and  a  bird  of  an  inquiring  turn  of  mind." 

11.  "I  don't  know  where  the  pine  is  —  I  am 
sure  I  can  never  find  him,"  answered  Blunder, 
sadly;  but  still  he  went  on  up  the  brook,  till,  hot 
and  tired,  and  out  of  patience  at  seeing  neither 
crow  nor  pine,  he  sat  down  under  a  great  tree 
to  rest.     There  he  heard  tiny  voices  squabbling. 

12.  "  Get  out !  Go  away,  I  tell  you !  It  has 
been  knock !  knock !  knock !  at  my  door  all  day, 
till  I  am  tired  out.  First  a  wasp,  and  then  a  bee, 
and  then  another  wasp,  and  then  another  bee,  and 
now  you.  Go  away !  I  won't  let  another  one  in 
to-day." 

13.  "  But  I  want  my  honey." 
"  And  I  want  my  nap." 

"  I  will  come  in." 

"  You  shall  not." 

"  You  are  a  miserly  old  elf." 

"  And  you  are  a  brute  of  a  bee.'* 

And,  looking  about  him.  Blunder  spied  a  bee 
quarrelling  with  a  morning-glory  elf,  who  was 
shutting  up  the  morning-glory  in  his  face. 


138 


FOURTH  READER. 


14.  "Elf,  do  you  know  which  is  the  way  to 
the  Wishing-Gate  ? "  asked  Blunder. 

"No/'  said  the  elf,  "I  don't  know  anything 
about  geography.  I  was  always  too  delicate  to 
study.  But  if  you  will  keep  on  this  path,  you 
will  meet  the  Dream-man  coming  down  from 
fairy-land,  with  his  bags  of  dreams  on  his  shoul- 
der, and  if  anybody  can  tell  you  about  the  Wish- 
ing-Gate, he  can." 

15.  "  But  how  can  I  find  him  ?  "  asked  Blunder, 
more  and  more  impatient. 

"I  don't  know,  I  am  sure,'*  answered  the  elf, 
"unless  you  should  look  for  him." 


Regulations.  —  Rules   by  which 

things  are  to  be  done. 
Water-sprite.  —  A  sort  of  fairy, 

supposed  to  live  in  water. 
Spied.  —  Saw. 
Artist.  —  One  who  devotes  himself 

to  any  art ;  here  that  of  music. 
Acquire.  —  Gain  by  effort. 
Elf.  — A  little  fairy. 


Morning-glory.  —  A  flower  of  the 

Convolvulus   kind   which   only 

opens  in  the  morning. 
Miserly. — Like  a  miser,  i.e.,  one 

who  lives  meanly  so  as  to  hoard 

up  his  money. 
Inquiring  turn  of  mind.  —  Given 

to  asking  questions. 


What  can  you  tell  of  Shetland  ponies  ?    What  of  Tom  Thumb  ? 
Name  some  of  the  things  learned  in  the  study  of  geography. 
What  is  meant  by  Blunder  ? 


BLUNDER.  139 


XXXIV. 


tre-men-dous      ex-claimed        gruff-ly  -w^liim-pered 

"wood-gob-lin       luck-i-ly  wliisk-ing        flut-ter-ing 


BLUNDER.  — Part  II. 

1.  So  there  was  no  help  for  it  but  to  go  on,  and 
presently  Blunder  passed  the  Dream-man  asleep 
under  a  hazel,  with  his  bags  of  good  and  bad 
dreams  laid  over  him  to  keep  him  from  flutter- 
ing away.  But  Blunder  had  a  habit  of  not  using 
his  eyes,  for  at  home,  when  told  to  find  anything, 
he  always  said,  "  I  don't  know  where  it  is,"  or,  "  I 
can't  find  it,"  and  then  his  mother  or  sister  went 
straight  and  found  it  for  him. 

2.  So  he  passed  the  Dream-man  without  seeing 
him,  and  went  on  till  he  stumbled  on  Jack-o'- 
Lantern. 

"Can  you  show  me  the  way  to  the  Wishing- 
Gate?"  said  Blunder. 

"  Certainly,  with  pleasure,"  answered  Jack,  and 
catching  up  his  lantern,  set  out  at  once. 

3.  Blunder  followed  close,  but  in  watching  the 
lantern  he  forgot  to  look  to  his  feet,  and  fell  into 
a  hole  filled  with  black  mud. 


140  FOURTH    READER. 

"I  say,  the  Wishing-Gate  is  not  down  there," 
called  out  Jack,  whisking  off  among  the  tree- 
tops. 

4.  "But  I  can't  come  up  there,"  whimpered 
Blunder. 

"  That  is  not  my  fault  then,"  answered  Jack, 
merrily,  dancing  out  of  sight. 


5.  Oh!  a  very  angry  little  boy  was  Blunder 
when  he  clambered  out  of  the  hole.  "I  don't 
know  where  it  is,"  he  said,  crying.  "  I  can't  find 
it,  and  I'll  go  straight  home." 

6.  Just  then  he  stepped  on  an  old,  moss-grown, 
rotten  stump,  and  it  happening  unluckily  that  this 
rotten  stump  was  a  wood-goblin's  chimney,  Blun- 
der fell  through  headlong,  in  among  the  pots  and 


BLUNDER.  141 

pans  in  which  the  goblin's  cook  was  cooking  the 
goblin's  supper. 

7.  The  old  goblin,  who  was  asleep  up  stairs, 
started  up  in  a  fright  at  the  tremendous  clash 
and  clatter,  and,  finding  that  his  house  was  not 
tumbling  about  his  ears,  as  he  thought  at  first, 
stumped  down  to  the  kitchen  to  see  what  was 
the  matter.  The  cook  heard  him  coming,  and 
looked  about  her  in  a  fright  to  hide  Blunder. 

8.  "  Quick  !  "  cried  she.  "  If  my  master  catches 
you,  he  will  have  you  in  a  pie.  In  the  next  room 
stands  a  pair  of  shoes.  Jump  into  them,  and 
they  will  take  you  up  the  chimney." 

9.  Off  flew  Blunder,  burst  open  the  door,  and 
tore  wildly  about  the  room,  in  one  corner  of 
which  stood  the  shoes;  but  of  course  he  could 
not  see  them,  because  he  was  not  in  the  habit 
of  using  his  eyes.  "  I  can't  find  them !  Oh,  I 
can't  find  them ! "  sobbed  poor  little  Blunder, 
running  back  to  the  cook. 

10.  "Eun  into  the  closet,"  said  the  cook. 
Blunder  made  a  dash  at  the  window,  but  "] 

don't  know  where  it  is,"  he  called  out. 

Clump  !  clump  !  That  was  the  goblin  half-way 
down  the  stairs. 

11.  '^  Oh,  dear,  dear !  "  exclaimed  cook.     "He  is 


142 


FOURTH    READER, 


coming !     The  boy  will  be  eaten  in  spite  of  me. 
Jump  into  the  meal-chest !  " 

"I  don't  see  it/'  squeaked  Blunder^  rushing 
towards  the  fireplace.     "  Where  is  it  ?  " 

12.  Clump !  Clump !  That  was  the  goblin  at 
the  foot  of  the  stairs,  and  coming  towards  the 
kitchen  door. 

"  There  is  a  cloak  hanging  on  that  peg.  Get 
into  that,  and  he  will  not  see  you,"  cried  cook, 
quite  beside  herself. 

13.  But  Blunder  could  no  more  see  the  cloak 
than  he  could  see  the  shoes,  the  closet,  and  the 
meal-chest,  and  no  doubt  the  goblin,  whose  hand 
was  on  the  latch,  would  have  found  him  prancing 
round  the  kitchen  and  crying  out,  "I  can't  find 
it,"  but,  luckily  for  himself.  Blunder  caught  his 
foot  in  the  cloak  and  tumbled  down,  pulling  it 
over  him.     There  he  lay,  hardly  daring  to  breathe. 


Jack-o'-Lantern.  —  A  mischie- 
vous elf  supposed  to  cause  the 
light  which  sometimes  hangs 
over  marshy  places.  The  light 
is  still  called  Jack-o'-Lantern,  or 
Will-o'-the-Wisp. 


Whisking  off.  —  Hastening  away. 
Goblin.  —  A   large    and    terrible 

imp  or  malicious  fairy. 
Whimpered.  —  i.e.,  said  in  a  pit- 


eous voice. 


BLUNDER.  143 

XXXV. 

star-va-tion  bush-el  pur-ple  ch.uck-ling 


BLUNDER.  — Part  III. 

1.  "  What  was  all  that  noise  about  ?  "  asked  the 
goblin,  gruffly,  coming  into  the  kitchen. 

"  Only  my  pans,  master,"  answered  the  cook ; 
and  as  he  could  see  nothing  amiss,  the  old  goblin 
went  grumbling  up  stairs  again,  while  the  shoes 
took  Blunder  up  the  chimney,  and  landed  him  in 
a  meadow,  safe  enough,  but  so  miserable ! 

2.  He  was  cross,  he  was  tired,  he  was  hungry. 
It  was  dark ;  he  did  not  know  the  way  home,  and, 
seeing  an  old  stile,  he  climbed  up  and  sat  down  on 
the  top  of  it,  for  he  was  too  weary  to  stir. 

3.  Just  then  came  along  the  South  Wind,  with 
his  pockets  crammed  full  of  showers,  and,  as  he 
happened  to  be  going  Blunder  s  way,  he  took 
Blunder  home,  of  which  the  boy  was  glad  enough ; 
only  he  would  have  liked  it  better  if  the  Wind 
would  not  have  laughed  all  the  way. 

4.  For  what  would  you  think  if  you  were  walk- 
ing along  a  road  with  a  fat  old  gentleman  who 
went  chuckling  to  himself,  and  slapping  his  knees, 


144 


FOURTH  READER. 


and  poking  himself  till  he  was  purple  in  the  face, 
when  he  would  burst  out  in  a  great  windy  roar  of 
laughter  every  other  minute  ? 

"What  are  you  laughing  at?"  asked  Blunder 
at  last. 


5.  "At  two  things  that  I  saw  in  my  travels/' 
answered  the  wind  —  "a  hen,  that  died  of  starva- 
tion, sitting  on  an  empty  peck  measure  that  stood 
in  front  of  a  bushel  of  grain,  and  a  little  boy  who 


BLUNDER.  145 

sat  on  the  top  of   the   Wishing-Gate,  and  came 
home  because  he  could  not  find  it." 

6.  "What?  what's  that?"  cried  Blunder;  but 
just  then  he  found  himself  at  home.  There  sat 
his  fairy  godmother  by  the  fire,  her  mouse-skin 
cloak  hung  up  on  a  peg,  making  the  toe  of  a 
spider' s-silk  stocking  an  eighth  of  an  inch  long, 
and  though  everybody  else  cried,  "What  luck?" 
and,  "Where  is  the  Wishing-Gate  ? "  she  sat 
silent. 

7.  "  I  don't  know  where  it  is,"  answered  Blun- 
der. "I  couldn't  find  it."  And  then  he  told  the 
story  of  his  troubles. 

"  Poor  boy  !  "  said  his  mother,  kissing  him,  while 
his  sister  ran  to  bring  him  some  bread  and  milk. 

8.  "Yes,  that's  all  very  fine,"  cried  his  god- 
mother, pulling  out  her  needles  and  rolling  up 
her  ball  of  silk  ;  "  but  now  hear  my  story.  There 
was  once  a  little  boy  who  must  needs  go  to  the 
Wishing-Gate,  and  his  fairy  godmother  showed 
him  the  road  as  far  as  the  turn,  and  told  him  to 
ask  the  first  owl  he  met  what  to  do  then. 

9.  "  But  this  little  boy  seldom  used  his  eyes ;  so 
he  passed  the  first  owl,  and  waked  up  the  wrong 
owl ;  so  he  passed  the  water-sprite,  and  found  only 
a  frog;   so  he  sat  down  under  the  pine-tree,  and 


146 


FOURTH  READER. 


never  saw  the  crow ;  so  he  passed  the  Dream-man, 
and  ran  after  Jack-o'-Lantern ;  so  he  tumbled 
down  the  goblin's  chimney,  and  couldn't  find  the 
shoes  and  the  closet  and  the  chest  and  the  cloak ; 
and  so  he  sat  on  the  top  of  the  Wishing-Gate  till 
the  South  Wind  brought  him  home,  and  never 
knew  it.     Bah!" 

10.  And  away  went  the  fairy  godmother  up  the 
chimney  in  such  deep  disgust  that  she  did  not 
even  stop  for  her  mouse-skin  cloak. 

Louise  E.  Chollet. 


Gruffly.  —  Roughly,  sternly. 
Bushel.  —  A   measure    equal    to 
four  pecks  or  eight  gallons. 


Chuckling.  —  Laughing  quietly. 
Starvation. — Suffering  from  waut 
of  food. 


A  READING  REVIEW.  — For  Expression. 

1.  On  page  100  read  paragraph  3,  saying  **  God  bless  you"  as 
if  it  were  a  single  word,  in  the  way  it  is  usually  spoken.  Read  also 
paragraphs  5  and  6  to  show  the  change  of  voice  which  follows  the 
dash.     Tell  for  what  the  dash  is  used  in  punctuation. 

2.  Review  Lesson  XXV.,  letting  one  reader  personate  the  fox 
and  one  the  cat:  omit  all  but  what  was  said;  that  is,  make  a 
DIALOGUE  of  it. 

3.  Use  Lessons  XXVIIL  and  XXIX.  for  recitation  or  concert- 
reading. 

4.  Read  sentences  from  The  Basket  Woman  and  from  Blunder, 
or  ask  others  in  the  class  to  read  any  that  you  like  to  hear.  For 
example,  the  talk  of  Paul  and  Anne  when  they  first  found  the 
guinea,  page  119, 


OUR    GAKDEN.  147 


XXXVI. 

al-lo"wed  mig-non-ette  bacti-e-lor  set-tied 

lav-en-der  pot-pour-ri  pre-served  rayr-tle 


OUR    GARDEN.  — Part   I. 

The  winter  is  gone ;  and  at  first  Jack  and  I  were 

sad, 
Because  of  the  snow  man's  melting,  but  now  we 

are  glad ; 
For  the  spring  has  come,  and  it's  warm,  and  we're 

allowed  to  garden  in  the  afternoon ; 
And  summer  is  coming,  and  oh !    how  lovely  our 

flowers  will  be  in  June ! 

We  are  so  fond  of  flowers,  it  makes  us  quite  happy 
to  think 

Of  our  beds — all  colors  —  blue,  white,  yellow,  pur- 
ple, and  pink. 

Scarlet,  lilac,  and  crimson!  And  we're  fond  of 
sweet  scents  as  well, 

And  mean  to  have  pinks,  roses,  sweet  peas,  mig- 
nonette, clove  carnations,  and  everything 
good  to  smell ; 

Lavender,  rosemary,  —  and  we  should  like  a  lemon- 
scented  verbena,  and  a  big  myrtle-tree ! 


148 


FOURTH  READER. 


C^9 


And  then  if  we  could  get  an  old  "  preserved  gin- 
ger"   pot,    and    some    bay-salt,   we   could 

make  pot-pourri. 

Jack  and  I  have  a  gar- 
den, though  it's  not 
so  large  as  the  big 
one,  you  know. 

But  whatever  can  be 
got  to  grow  in  a  gar- 
den, we  mean  to 
grow. 

We've    got    bachelor's 
buttons,  and  London 
pride,  and  old  man, 
and  everything  that's 
nice. 
And    last    year    Jack 
sowed  green  peas  for 
our    doll's     dinners, 
but  they  were  eaten 
up  by  the  mice. 
And   he    would    plant 
potatoes  in  furrows, 
which  made  the  garden  in  a  mess. 
So  this  year  we  mean  to  have  no  kitchen  garden 
but  mustard  and  cress. 


OUR   GARDEK. 


149 


One  of  us  plants  and  the  other  waters,  but  Jack 

likes  the  watering-pot, 
And  then  when  my  turn  comes  to  water,  he  says 

it's  too  hot ! 


We  sometimes  quarrel  about  the  garden,  and  once 

Jack  hit  me  with  the  spade : 
So  we  settled  to  divide  it  in  two  by  a  path  up  the 

middle,  and  that's  made. 


150 


FOURTH    HEADER. 


We  want  some  yellow  sand  now  to  make  the  walk 
pretty,  but  there's  none  about  here ; 

So  we  mean  to  get  some  in  the  old  carpet-bag,  if 
we  go  to  the  seaside  this  year. 

On  Monday  we  went  to  the  wood  and  got  prim- 
rose plants,  and  a  sucker  of  dog-rose ; 

It  looks  like  a  green  stick  in  the  midst  of  the  bed 
at  present ;  but  wait  till  it  blows ! 

The  primroses  were  in  full  flower,  and  the  rose 

ought  to  flower  soon; 
You've  no  idea  how  lovely  it  is  in  that  wood  in 

June ! 


Allowed.  —  Have  had  permission. 

Bachelor's  button.  —  A  delicate 
garden  flower  (either  pink  or 
violet). 

Settled.  —  Agreed. 

Mignonette  {min-yon-ette').  —  A 
sweet-scented  purple  flower. 

Pot-pourri  {p6-p6dr-ee').  —  A  vase 
filled  with  fragrant  leaves  and 
sprinkled  with  salt  to  perfume 
a  room.    The  word  is  also  used 


to  name  a  piece  in  music  made 
up  of  many  airs ;  a  medley. 

Preserved.  —  Prepared  for  keep- 
ing. 

Mustard  and  cress. —  Plants  hav- 
ing a  biting  or  pungent  taste, 
and  used  with  food. 

Sucker.  —  The  shoot  of  a  plant, 
either  from  the  roots  or  the 
lower  part  of  the  stem. 


Use  some  other  word  for  got  in  "  got  to  grow  in  a  garden.*'  Drop 
"  got "  from  the  sentence  that  follows  :  "  We've  got  bachelor's  but- 
tons," etc.     Use  another  word  for  "  flower  "  in  the  last  stanza. 

Notice  that  the  lines  in  this  and  the  following  lesson  are  of 
greater  length  than  have  been  found  in  previous  selections. 


OUR    GARDEN.  151 

XXXVII. 

nem-optL-i-la         pin-a-fores         witli-ered  gar-den-er 


OUR    GARDEN.  — Part   II. 

The   primroses   look    quite    withered    now,   I    am 

sorry  to  say; 
But  that's  not  our  fault,  but  nurse's^  and  it  shows 

how  hard  it  is  to  garden  when  you  can't 

have  you  own  way. 
We  planted  them  carefully,  and  were  just  going 

to  water  them  all  in  a  lump 
When  nurse  fetched  us  both  in-doors,  and  put  us 

to  bed   for  wetting  our   pinafores  at   the 

pump. 

It's  very  hard,  and  I'm  sure  the  gardener's  plants 
wouldn't  grow  any  better  than  ours 

If  nurse  fetched  him  in  and  sent  him  to  bed  just 
when  he  was  going  to  water  his  flowers. 

We've  got  blue  nemophila  and  mignonette  and 
Venus' s    looking-glass,    and    many    other 


The  nemophila  comes  up  spotted,  which  is  how  we 
know  it  from  the  weeds ; 


152 


FOURTH    READER. 


At  least  it's  sure  to  come  up  if  the  hens  haven't 

scratched  it  up  first. 
But  when  it's  up  the  cats  roll  on  it,  and  that  is 

the  worst ! 
I  sowed  a  ring  of  sweet  peas,  and  the  last  time  I 

looked  they  were  coming  nicely  on, 


Just  sprouting  white,  and  I  put  them  safely  back ; 
but  when  Jack  looked  he  found  they  were 
gone. 

Jack  made  a  great  many  cuttings,  but  he  has 
had  rather  bad  luck ; 


OUE    GARDEN.  153 

I've  looked  at  them  every  day  myself ^  and  not  one 

of  them  has  struck. 
The  gardener  gave  me  a  fine  moss-rose,  but  Jack 

took  it  to  his  side ; 
I  kept  moving  it  back,  but  he  took  it  again,  and 

at  last  it  died. 

But  now  we've  settled  to  dig  up  the  path,  and 

have  the  bed  as  it  was  before. 
So  everything  will   belong   to   us   both,  and  we 

shan't  ever  quarrel  any  more. 
It  is  such  a  long  time,  too,  to  wait  for  the  sand, 

and  perhaps  sea  sand  does  best  on  the  shore. 


We're  going  to  take  everything  up,  —  for  it  can't 

hurt  the  plants  to  stand  on  the  grass  for  a 

minute. 
And  you  really  can't  possibly  rake  a  bed  smooth 

with  so  many  things  in  it. 
We  shall  dig  it  all  over,  and  get  leaf-mould  from 

the  wood,  and  hoe  up  the  weeds  -, 
And  when  its  tidy,  we  shall  plant  and  put  labels 

and  strike  cuttings  and  sow  seeds. 

We  are  so  fond  of  flowers!     Jack  and  I  often 
dream  at  night 


154  FOURTH    READER. 

Of  getting  up  and  finding  our  garden  ablaze  with 
all  colors,  —  blue,  red,  yellow,  and  white. 

And  midsummer's  coming,  and  big  brother  Tom 
will  sit  under  the  tree 

With  his  book,  and  Mary  will  beg  sweet  nosegays 
of  me. 

The  worst  is,  we  often  start  for  the  seaside  about 

midsummer  day. 
And  no  one  takes  care  of  our  gardens  whilst  we 

are  away. 
But  if  we  sow  lots  of  seeds,  and  take  plenty  of 

cuttings  before  we  leave  home, 
When  we  come  back  our  flowers  will  be  all  in  full 

bloom. 

Bright,  bright  sunshine  above,  and  sweet,  sweet 

flowers  below ; 
Come  midsummer,  quickly  come,  and  go  quickly, 

midsummer,  go ! 


P.  S.     It's   so  tiresome !     Jack  wants  to  build  a 

greenhouse  now. 
He  has  found  some  bits  of  broken  glass  and  an  old 

window-frame,  and  he  says  he  knows  how. 


OUE   GARDEN. 


155 


I  tell  him  there's  not  glass  enough,  but  he  says 
there's  lots. 


And  he's  taken  all  the  plants  that  belong  to  the 
bed,  and  put  them  in  pots. 

Juliana  Horatio  Ewing. 


Pinafore.  —  A  kind  of  apron. 
Withered.  —  Dried,  faded. 
Tidy.  —  Neat,  orderly. 
Cuttings.  — Parts  of  a  plant  that 
contain  a  bud. 


Mould.  —  Earth  that  is  made 
mostly  of  decayed  leaves. 

Label.  —  A  tag ;  a  small  card  or 
piece  of  wood  with  the  name  of 
the  thing  to  which  it  is  fastened. 


156  FOUKTH    READER. 


XXXVIII. 

Col-o-ra-do  lieif-er  cru-el  jag-ged 

liin-dered  mere-ly  seams  spoiled 


THE    ANT'S    MONDAY    DINNER.  — Part  I. 

1.  How  did  I  know  what  the  ants  had  for 
dinner  last  Monday? 

It  is  odd  that  I  should  have  known,  but  I'll 
tell  you  how  it  happened. 

2.  I  was  sitting  under  a  great  pine-tree  high 
up  on  a  hillside. 

The  hillside  was  more  than  seven  thousand 
feet  above  the  sea,  and  that  is  higher  than  most 
mountains.  But  this  hillside  was  in  Colorado, 
so  there  was  nothing  wonderful  in  its  being  so 
high. 

3.  I  had  watched  the  great  mountains  with 
snow  upon  them,  and  the  forest  of  pine-trees  — 
miles  and  miles  of  them  —  so  close  together  that 
it  looks  as  if  one  could  lie  down  upon  their  tops 
and  not  fall  through. 

4.  My  eyes  were  tired  with  looking  at  such  great, 
grand  things,  so  many  miles  away;  so  I  looked 
down  upon  the  ground  where  I  was  sitting,  and 
watched    the    ants   which   were    running    about 


THE   ant's   MONDAY    DINNER.  157 

everywhere,  as  busy  and  restless  as  if  they  had 
the  whole  world  on  their  shoulders. 

5.  Suddenly  I  saw  under  a  tuft  of  grass  a  tiny 
yellow  caterpillar,  which  seemed  to  be  bounding 
along  in  a  strange  way.  In  a  second  more  1 
saw  an  ant  seize  him  and  begin  to  drag  him  off. 

6.  The  caterpillar  was  three  times  as  long  as 
the  ant,  and  his  body  was  more  than  twice  as 
large  round  as  the  biggest  part  of  the  ant's 
body. 

"Ho!  Ho!  Mr.  Ant,"  said  I,  "you  are  not 
strong  enough  to  drag  that  fellow  very  far." 

7.  Why,  it  was  about  the  same  as  if  you  should 
drag  a  heifer  which  was  kicking  all  the  time ; 
only  that  the  heifer  has  not  half  so  many  legs 
to  catch  hold  of  things  with  as  the  caterpillar 
had. 

8.  Poor  caterpillar  !  how  he  did  try  to  get  away. 
But  the  ant  never    gave  him  a  second's  time 

to  take  a  good  grip  of  anything;  and  he  was 
cunning  enough,  too,  to  drag  him  on  his  side, 
so  that  he  could  not  use  his  legs  very  well. 

9.  Up  and  down,  under  and  over  sticks  and 
stones,  in  and  out  of  tufts  of  grass,  up  to  the 
top  of  the  tallest  blades  and  down  again,  over 
gravel    and   sand,   and   across    bridges   of    pine- 


158  FOUETH    READER. 

needles,  from  stone  to  stone,  backward  all  the 
way ;  but  for  all  I  could  see,  just  as  swiftly  as 
if  lie  were  going  head  foremost,  ran  that  ant, 
dragging  the  caterpillar  after  him. 

10.  I  watched  him  very  closely,  thinking  of 
course  he  must  be  going  toward  his  house. 

Presently  he  darted  up  the  trunk  of  the  pine- 
tree. 

^'What  does  this  mean?"  said  I;  "ants  do 
not  live  in  pine-trees." 

11.  The  bark  of  the  tree  was  broken  and 
jagged,  and  full  of  seams  twenty  times  as  deep 
as  the  height  of  the  ant's  body. 

He  did  not  mind ;  down  one  side  and  up  the 
other  he  went. 

12.  I  had  to  watch  very  closely,  not  to  lose 
sight  of  him  altogether. 

I  began  to  think  he  was  merely  trying  to  kill 
the  caterpillar,  that  perhaps  he  didn't  mean  to 
eat  him  after  all.  How  did  I  know  but  some 
ants  might  hunt  caterpillars  just  as  some  men 
hunt  deer,  for  fun,  and  not  at  all  because  they 
needed  food. 

13.  If  I  had  been  sure  of  this,  I  would  have 
spoiled  Mr.  Ant's  sport,  and  set  the  poor  cater- 
pillar free.     But  I  never  heard  of  an  ant's  being 


THE    ANT  S    MONDAY    DINNER. 


159 


cruel ;  and  if  it  really  were  for  dinner  for  his 
family  that  he  was  working  so  hard,  I  thought 
he  ought  to  be  helped  and  not  hindered. 


Heifer.  —  A  young  cow. 
Grip. — Grasp,  hold. 
Hindered.  —  Kept    from    doing, 
prevented. 


Gravel.  — Masses  of  fine  pebbles, 
or  fragments  of  stone,  not  as 
fine  as  sand. 

Darted.  —  Kan  quickly. 


>:<«o 


di-vert-ed 
•wa-ter-proof 


XXXIX. 

e-nor-mous 
dis-ap-peared 


van-ish.ed 
fan-cied 


lia-tred 
slirill 


THE    ANTS    MONDAY    DINNER.  — Part  II. 

1.  Just  then  my  attention  was  diverted  by  a 
sharp  cry  overhead. 

I  looked  up  and  saw  an  enormous  hawk  sailing 
round  in  circles  with  two  small  birds  flying  after, 
pouncing  down  upon  his  head,  then  darting  away, 
and  all  the  time  making  shrill  cries  of  fright  and 
hatred.  I  knew  very  well  what  was  meant.  Mr. 
Hawk  was  trying  to  do  some  marketing  for  his 
dinner.  He  had  his  eye  on  some  little  birds  in 
their  nest ;  and  the  father  and  mother  birds  were 
driving  him  away. 


160  FOURTH    READER. 

2.  You  would  not  have  believed  two  such  little 
birds  could  drive  off  such  a  creature  as  the  hawk, 
but  they  did. 

They  seemed  to  fairly  buzz  around  his  head, 
as  flies  do  around  horses ;  and  at  last  he  flew  off 
so  far  that  he  vanished  in  the  blue  sky,  and  the 
little  birds  came  skimming  home  into  the  wood. 

3.  "  The  little  people  are  stronger  than  the  great 
ones,  after  all,"  I  said. 

But  where  has  my  ant  gone? 

It  had  not  been  two  minutes  that  I  had  been 
watching  the  hawk  and  the  birds,  but  in  that  two 
minutes  the  ant  and  the  caterpillar  had  disap- 
peared. 

4.  At  last  I  found  them ;  where  do  you  think  ? 
In  a  fold  of  my  waterproof  cloak,  on  which  I  was 
sitting.  The  ant  had  let  go  the  caterpillar  and  was 
running  round  and  round  him,  and  the  caterpillar 
was  too  near  dead  to  stir.  I  shook  the  fold  out, 
and  as  soon  as  the  cloth  lay  straight  and  smooth, 
the  ant  fastened  his  nippers  into  the  caterpillar 
again,  and  started  off  as  fast  as  ever. 

5.  By  this  time  the  caterpillar  was  so  limp  and 
helpless  that  the  ant  was  not  afraid  of  losing  him, 
so  he  stopped  a  second  now  and  then  to  rest. 

Sometimes  he  would  spring  upon  the  caterpil- 


THE    ant's    MONDAY   DINNER.  161 

lar's  back  and  stretch  himself  out  there;  some- 
times he  would  stand  still  and  look  at  him  sharply, 
keeping  one  nipper  on  his  head. 

6.  It  astonished  me  much  at  first  that  none  of 
the  ants  he  met  took  any  notice  of  him ;  they  all 
went  their  own  ways,  and  did  not  so  much  as  sniff 
at  the  caterpillar. 

7.  But  soon  I  said  to  myself,  "Do  you- not  sup- 
pose that  ants  can  be  as  well  behaved  as  people  ? 

"When  you  passed  Mr.  Jones,  yesterday,  you 
did  not  peep  into  his  market  basket,  nor  touch  the 
big  cabbage  he  had  under  his  arm." 

Presently  the  ant  dropped  the  caterpillar,  and 
ran  on  a  few  steps  —  I  mean  inches  —  to  meet 
another  ant,  who  was  coming  towards  him. 

8.  They  put  their  heads  close  together  for  a 
second.  I  could  not  hear  what  they  said,  but  they 
both  ran  quickly  back  to  the  caterpillar,  and  one 
took  him  by  the  head  and  the  other  by  the  tail, 
and  then  they  got  on  finely. 

9.  It  was  only  a  few  steps  to  the  ant's  house. 
The  door  was  a  round  hole  in  the  ground,  about 
the  size  of  my  little  finger.  Several  ants  were 
standing  in  the  doorway  watching  these  two  as 
they  come  up  with  the  caterpillar. 

10.  They  all  took  hold  as  soon  as  the  caterpillar 


162 


FOURTH  READER. 


was  on  the  doorsteps,  and  almost  before  I  knew 
he  was  fairly  there,  they  had  tumbled  him  down, 
heels  over  head,  into  the  ground,  and  that  was 
the  last  I  saw  of  him. 

11.  The  oddest  thing  was  the  way  the  ants 
came  running  home  from  all  directions.  I  do 
not  believe  there  was  any  dinner-bell  rung,  though 
there  might  have  been  a  finer  one  than  my  ears 
could  hear,  but  in  less  than  a  minute  I  had  counted 
thirty-three  ants  running  down  that  hole. 

12.  I  fancied  they  looked  as  hungry  as  wolves. 
I  had  a  great  mind  to  dig  down  into  the  hole  with 
a  stick  to  see  what  had  become  of  the  caterpillar. 
But  I  thought  it  would  not  be  quite  fair  to  take 
the  roof  off  a  man's  house  to  see  how  he  cooked 
his  beef  for  dinner,  so  I  sat  still  awhile  wondering 
how  they  would  serve  him,  and  if  they  would  leave 
any  for  Tuesday ;  and  then  went  home  to  my  own 
dinner.  H.  H.  (Mrs.  Jackson). 


Vanished. —  Passed  out  of  sight, 

disappeared. 
Fancied.  —  To  fancy,  in  this  use, 

is  to  form  an  opinion  without 

much  care  or  thought. 
Limp.  —  Weak,  without  stiffness 

or  force. 


Diverted.  —  Turned  another  way. 

Serve. — To  prepare  or  arrange 
for  eating. 

Enormous.  —  A  thing  is  said  to 
be  enormous  when  it  is  larger 
than'that  kind  of  thing  usually 


The  words  on  the  following  page  are  for  reference,  and  practice 
in  penmanship. 


164 


FOURTH  READER. 


ceil-ing 
weaves 


■wh.etli-er 
"weattL-er 


XL. 

in-mates 
af-fairs 


div-ing  bell 
•win-dow  pane 


AFRAID    OF    SPIDERS. 

1.  Carrie    jumped    from  her   seat   because   a 
spider  was  spinning   down   before   her   from  the 

ceiling.  "  They  are  such 
hateful  black  things  !  " 
she  said. 

"  They  are  curious 
things,"  said  Aunt  Nel- 
lie. "They  have  eight 
fixed  eyes." 

2.  "Dear  me!  And 
maybe  she's  looking  at 
me  with  all  eight  of 
them,"  groaned  Carrie. 

"  They  are  very  fond 
of  music  —  " 

"  I  shall  never  dare  to 

sing    again,     for     fear 

they'll  be  spinning  down 

to  listen." 

3.  "They   can   tell   you   whether   the   weather 


AFRAID    OF    SPIDERS.  165 

is  going  to  be  fine  or  not.  If  it  is  going  to  storm, 
they  spin  a  short  thread;  if  it  will  clear,  they 
spin  a  long  one." 

"  That's  funny." 

4.  "  They  are  an  odd  family,"  Aunt  Nellie 
went  on.  "I  saw  one  on  the  window-pane  the 
other  day.  She  carried  a  little  gray  silk  bag 
about  with  her  wherever  she  ran.     She  had  spun 


the  bag  herself.  When  it  burst  open,  ever  so 
many  tiny  baby  spiders  tumbled  out,  like  birds 
from  a  nest,  and  ran  along  with  her.  Perhaps 
you  didn't  know  that  the  spider  can  spin  and 
sew,  too  ?  She  spins  her  web,  and  she  sews  leaves 
together  for  her  summer  house." 

5.  "What  a  queer  thing  a  spider  is,"  said  Carrie, 
beginning  to  forget  her  dislike. 

"  Yes,  and  she  has  a  queerer  sister  in  England, 


166  FOURTH   READER. 

wlio  makes  a  raft,  and  floats  on  pools  of  water 
upon  it  in  search  of  flies  for  her  dinner." 

6.  *'I  should  like  to  know  what  it's  made  of." 
"She  binds  together  a  ball  of  weeds  with  the 

thread  she  spins." 

7.  "  I  wish  we  could  go  to  England." 

"  And  there's  another  of  the  family  who  lives 
under  water  in  a  diving-bell,  which  she  weaves 
herself." 


"  How  I  should  like  to  see  her ! " 
8.  "  Maybe  you  would  rather  see  the  one  in  the 
West  Indies  who  digs  a  hole  in  the  earth.  She 
lines  it  with  silk  of  her  own  making,  and  fits  a 
door  to  it,  which  opens  and  closes  when  the 
family  go  in  and  out." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Carrie,  "  how  delightful !  " 
"  But  you  would  be  afraid  of  the  inmates  ?  " 
"  Perhaps  not,  now  I  know  their  family  affairs." 


TWINETTE. 


167 


9.  "  Did  you  ever  read  Mrs.  Gatty's  story  of  a 
spider,  in  Parables  from  Nature  ?  " 

"  No,  I  am  sure  I  never  did." 

"  Well,  then,  here  it  is.  You  may  read  it  aloud 
if  you  like."  


Ceiling  [ceil,  to  arch  or  cover). — 
The  upper  wall  of  a  room. 

Affairs.  —  Things  done  or  to  be 
done. 

Diving-bell.  —  A  contrivance  by 


which  a  person  can  go  down  in 
deep  water  and  be  supplied  with 
air  for  some  time. 
Inmates.  —  Persons    who    dwell 
together  in  a  house. 


suf-fi-cient 
ex-quis-ite 


5l*4c 


XLI. 


in-tel-li-gent 
man-age-a-ble 


e-las-tic 
ma-cliines 


gen-er-a-tion 
o-beyed 


TWINETTE.— Part  I. 

1.  Twinette  the  spider  was  young,  hungry,  and 
industrious. 

"Weave  yourself  a  web,  my  dear,"  said  her 
mother,  "  as  you  know  how  without  teaching,  and 
catch  flies  for  yourself.  I  am  old  and  stay  in 
corners,  but  you  are  young  and  need  not.  Besides, 
you  might  be  in  my  way.  Scramble  along  the 
rafters    a   little  way  and   spin.     But   mind !    see 


168  FOUKTH    READER. 

that  there's  nothing  there  —  below  you,  I  mean  — 
before  you  begin.  You  will  not  catch  anything  to 
eat;  if  there  isn't  empty  space  about  you  for  the 
flies  to  fly  in." 

2.  Twinette  was  dutiful,  and  obeyed.  She  ran 
along  the  wood-work  of  the  roof  of  the  church  — 
for  it  was  there  her  mother  lived  —  till  she  had 
gone  what  she  thought  a  suflicient  distance ;  then 
she  stopped  to  look  around.  As  she  had  eight 
eyes,  this  was  not  a  difficult  thing  to  do,  but  she 
was  not  sure  of  what  there  might  be  below. 

3.  "I  wonder  whether  mother  would  say  there 
was  nothing  here  —  below  me,  I  mean  —  but 
empty  space  for  flies  to  fly  in  ?  "  said  she. 

She  went  back  to  her  mother  and  asked  what 
she  thought. 

"  Oh  dear,  oh  dear ! ''  said  her  mother,  "how  can 
I  think  about  what  I  don't  see  ?  There  used  not 
to  be  anything  there  in  my  young  days,  I'm  sure. 
But  everybody  must  find  out  things  for  themselves. 
Let  yourself  down  by  the  family  rope,  as  you 
know  how  without  teaching,  and  see  for  yourself 
if  there's  anything  there  or  not." 

4.  Twinette  was  an  intelligent  young  spider, 
quite  worthy  of  the  age  she  was  born  in ;  so  she 
thanked  her  mother,  and  was  just  starting  afresh, 


TWINETTE.  169 

when  another  thought  struck  her.  "  How  shall  I 
know  if  there's  anything  there  when  I  get  there  ?" 
asked  she. 

"  Dear  me !  if  there's  anything  there,  how  can 
you  help  seeing  it  ?"  cried  the  mother;  "you  with 
at  least  eight  eyes." 

5.  "Thank  you.  Now  I  quite  understand/'  said 
Twinette;  and  going  back  to  the  end  of  the  rafter, 
she  began  to  prepare  the  family  rope. 

It  was  the  most  exquisite  thing  in  the  world,  — 
so  fine,  you  could  scarcely  see  it;  so  elastic,  it 
could  be  blown  about  without  breaking;  such  a 
perfect  gray  that  it  looked  white  against  black 
things,  and  black  against  white;  so  manageable 
that  Twinette  could  both  make  it  and  slide  down 
by  it  at  once ;  and  when  she  wished  to  get  back, 
could  slip  up  by  it  and  roll  it  up  at  the  same 
time. 

6.  It  was  a  wonderful  rope  for  anybody  to  make 
without  teaching.  But  Twinette  was  not  con- 
ceited. Eope-making  came  as  natural  to  her  as 
eating  to  hungry  boys,  and  she  thought  no  more 
about  it  than  they  do  of  eating  their  food. 

7.  How  she  did  it  is  another  question,  —  one  not 
easily  answered.  This  much  may  be  hinted :  out 
of  six  little  spinning-machines  near  the  tail -came 


170  FOUETH    KEADER. 

as  many  little  threads,  and  the  rope  was  a  six- 
twist  of  these.  But  as  each  separate  thread  was 
itself  a  many-twist  of  a  great  many  others  still 
finer,  I  do  not  pretend  to  tell  the  number  of 
strands  in  Twinette's  family  rope.  Enough,  that 
as  she  made  it  now,  it  has  been  made  from  gen- 
eration to  generation  without  change. 

8.  The  plan  was  for  the  spinner  to  glue  the  ends 
to  the  rafter,  and  then  start  off.  Out  came  the 
thread  from  the  spinning-machine,  and  the  further 
the  spinner  travelled,  the  longer  the  rope  became. 


Intelligent.  —  Sensible,  skilled. 
Exquisite.  —  Perfect;       of     fine 
quality,  delicate. 


Conceited.  —  Occupied  with  one's 

self. 
Worthy.  —  Having  merit  or  value. 


3j<KC 


XLII. 

sus-pend-ed       "wh.im-pered        ob-ser-va-tions       re-solved 
eu>gu-i^en.ts       re-sist  daw-died  draught 


TWINETTE.  — Part   II. 


1.  Twinette,  having  made  ready,  turned  on  her 
back  and  let  herself  fairly  off. 

The  glued  ends  held  fast,  the  strands  twined 
closely,   and    down   went   the   family   rope   with 


TWINETTE.  171 

Twinette  at  the  end,  guiding  it-.  Down  into  the 
middle  of  the  chancel,  where  were  carved  oaken 
screens  on  three  sides,  and  carved  oaken  seats 
below.  When  Twinette  was  about  half-way  down, 
she  stopped  to  rest  and  look  around.  Then  bal- 
ancing herself  at  the  end  of  her  rope,  with  her 
legs  folded  up  around  her,  she  made  her  remarks. 

2.  "This  is  charming!"  cried  she.  "Nice  empty 
space  for  the  flies  to  fly  about  in,  and  a  pleasant 
time  they  must  have  of  it.  Oh  dear,  how  hungry 
I  feel !     I  must  go  back  and  weave  at  once." 

3.  Just  as  she  was  preparing  to  roll  up  the  rope 
and  be  off,  a  ray  of  sunshine,  streaming  through 
one  of  the  chancel  windows,  struck  upon  her  sus- 
pended body,  quite  startling  her  with  the  dazzle  of 
its  brightness.  Everything  was  in  a  blaze  all  about 
her,  and  she  turned  round  and  round  in  terror. 

4.  "  Oh  dear,  oh  dear,  oh  dear ! "  cried  she,  for 
she  couldn't  help  saying  something.  She  gave  a 
hearty  spring,  and,  blinded  though  she  was,  shot 
up  to  the  roof,  rolling  the  rope  as  she  went. 
After  which  she  stopped  to  complain. 

5.  But  it  is  dull  work  complaining  to  one's  self, 
so  she  ran  back  to  her  mother  in  the  corner. 

"Back  again  so  soon,  my  dear?"  asked  the 
old  lady,  not  overpleased. 


172  FOURTH    READER. 

6.  "Back  again  at  all  is  the  wonder,"  whim- 
pered Twinette.  "  There's  something  down  there, 
after  all,  besides  empty  space." 

"  Why,  what  did  you  see  ?  "  asked  her  mother. 

"  Nothing ;  that  was  just  it,"  answered  Twinette. 
"  I  could  see  nothing  for  dazzle  and  blaze,  but 
I  did  see  dazzle  and  blaze." 

7.  "Young  people  of  the  present  day  are  very 
troublesome  with  their  observations,"  remarked 
the  mother;  "however,  if  one  rule  will  not  do, 
here  is  another.  Did  dazzle  and  blaze  shove 
you  out  of  your  place,  my  dear?" 

Twinette  said,  "Certainly  not."  She  had 
come   away  of   herself. 

8.  "Then  how  could  they  be  anything?"  asked 
the  mother.  "  Two  things  could  not  be  in  one 
place  at  the  same  time.  Let  Twinette  try  to 
get  into  Tier  place  while  she  was  there  herself, 
and  see  that  this  was  so." 

9.  Twinette  did  not  try,  for  she  knew  she  could 
not;  but  she  sat  silent,  wondering  what  dazzle 
and  blaze  could  be  if  they  were  nothing  at  all. 
Fortunately,  her  mother  interrupted  her  by  ad- 
vising her  to  go  and  get  something  to  do. 

"If  dazzle  and  blaze  kill  me,  you'll  be  sorry, 
mother,"  said  Twinette  in  a  pet. 


TWINETTE.  173 

10.  "Nonsense  about  dazzle  and  blaze!"  cried 
the  old  spider.  "  I  dare  say  they're  only  a  little 
more  light  than  usual.  There's  more  or  less 
light  even  here  in  the  corners,  at  times." 

11.  Twinette  went  away,  but  she  felt  too  cross 
to  begin  to  spin.  She  would  rather  know  about 
light  than  have  her  dinner,  which  showed  she 
was  no  common  spider.  So  she  resolved  to  go 
down  in  another  place  to  see  if  she  could  find  a 
really  empty  space. 

12.  Her  good  humor  returned.  "I  do  believe 
I've  found  nothing  at  last."  As  she  spoke  she 
hung  dangling  at  the  end  of  her  rope,  her  legs 
tucked  up  around  her  as  before,  in  perfect  en- 
joyment, when  suddenly  the  south  door  of  the 
church  was  opened,  and  a  strong  gust  set  in. 
It  was  a  windy  evening,  and  the  draught  blew 
the  family  rope  with  Twinette  at  the  end  of  it, 
till  she  turned  quite  giddy. 

13.  "  Oh  dear,"  she  cried,  puffing ;  "  what  shall 
I  do  ?  How  could  they  say  there  was  nothing 
here  but  empty  space  for  flies  —  oh  dear !  —  to 
fly  in?"  She  made  an  effort  at  resistance,  and 
in  the  very  teeth  of  the  wind  succeeded  in  coil- 
ing up  the  rope,  and  so  got  back  to  the  rafters. 

14.  It  was  a  piece  of  rare  good  fortune,  that  a 


174  FOURTH    READER. 

lazy,  half -alive  fly  happened  to  be  creeping  along 
it  just  at  that  moment.  She  pounced  upon 
the  stroller,  and  had  sucked  his  juices  before 
he  knew  where  he  was.  Then  she  scrambled 
back  to  her  mother,  and  told  her  what  she 
thought,  but  not  in  very  plain  words.  For  what 
she  thought  was  that  the  old  lady  didn't  know 
what  she  was  saying  when  she  talked  about 
empty  space  with  nothing  in  it. 

15.  "  Dazzle  and  blaze  were  nothing,"  cried  she 
at  last,  "•  though  they  blinded  me  because  they 
and  I  were  in  one  place  together,  which  couldn't 
be  if  they'd  been  anything ;  and  now  this  is 
nothing,  though  it  blows  me  out  of  my  place 
twenty  times  a  minute,  because  I  can't  see  it. 
What's  the  use  of  rules  one  can't  go  by,  mother  ? 
I  don't  believe  you  know  a  quarter  of  what's 
down  there." 

16.  The  old  spider's  head  turned  as  giddy  with 
Twinette's  arguments,  as  Twinette's  had  done 
while  swinging  in  the  wind. 

"  I  don't  see  what  it  can  matter  what's  ther6," 
returned  she,    "  if   there's   room   for   flies   to  fly 
about   in,    and   I  wish  you  would    go   back   and 
spin." 
.    17.  "  That's    another    part    of    the    question," 


TWINETTE. 


175 


remarked  Twinette  in  answer  to  the  first  half 
of  her  mother's  remark.  In  answer  to  the 
second,  back  she  went,  intending  to  be  obedient, 
and  spin;  but  she  dawdled  and  thought,  and 
thought  and  dawdled,  till  the  day  was  nearly 
over. 


Observations.  —  Thoughts,  re- 
marks. 

Resistance.  —  The  act  of  striving 
against  or  not  yielding  to. 


Arguments. —  Eeasons;  attempts 

to  prove. 
Vibrations.  —  Quick    motion    to 

and  fro :  successions  of  sound. 


>J«<c 


XLIII. 

out-land-ish.      pave-ment      ph.i-los-o-plier  ex-haust-ed 

vi-bra-tions        fes-ti-val  in-ter-la-cing  com-plet-ed 

in-ter-fered         tigM-ened       re-flec-tions  mur-miired 


TWINETTE.  — Part  III. 

1.  "I  will  take  one  more  turn  down  below," 
said  she  to  herself  at  last,  "  and  look  round  me 
again.  I  will  sift  the  matter  to  the  bottom.  I 
will  see  how  far  empty  space  goes."  So  saying, 
she  opened  her  spinning-machines,  and  started 
afresh. 

2.  It  was   a  wonderful   rope,  or   it  would   not 


176  FOURTH    READER. 

have  gone  on  to  such  a  length  without  breaking. 
In  a  few  seconds  Twinette  was  on  the  cold  pave- 
ment. But  she  didn't  like  the  feel  of  it  at  all, 
so  she  took  to  running  as  fast  as  she  could  go, 
and  crept  into  a  corner.  "One  doesn't  know 
what  to  expect  in  such  queer,  outlandish  places," 
observed  she ;  "  when  I've  rested  I'll  go  back." 

3.  When  she  stepped  out  of  her  place,  the  whole 
church  was  dark.  Now  it  is  one  thing  to  be 
snug  in  bed  when  it  is  dark,  and  another  to  be 
a  long  way  from  home,  and  have  lost  your  way, 
and  not  know  what  may  happen  to  you  the  next 
minute.  She  wondered  what  dreadful  thing 
darkness  might  be. 

Then  she  thought  of  her  mother's  rules  and  felt 
quite  angry. 

4.  "  I  can't  see  anything,  and  I  don't  feel  any- 
thing," murmured  she,  "  and  yet  here's  something 
that  frightens  me  out  of  my  wits." 

At  last  she  felt  about  for  the  family  rope  ;  it 
was  there,  safe  and  sound,  and  she  made  a  spring. 
Roll  went  the  rope,  and  up  went  its  owner ;  higher, 
higher,  through  the  dark  night  air.  By  the  time 
she  touched  the  rafter  she  was  half  exhausted, 
and  she  fell  asleep. 

5.  It  must  have  been  late  next  mornins;  when 


TWINETTE.  177 

she  woke,  for  the  sound  of  organ  music  was  peal- 
ing through  the  church.  The  vibrations  swept 
pleasantly  over  her,  rising  and  falling  like  gusts  of 
night,  swelling  and  sinking  like  waves  of  the  sea, 
gathering  and  scattering  like  vapors  of  the  sky. 

6.  She  went  down  to  observe,  but  nothing  was 
to  be  seen  to  account  for  her  sensations.  It  was  a 
harvest  festival,  and  large  white  lilies  were 
grouped  with  evergreens  round  the  slender  pillars 
of  the  screens,  and  the  air  was  filled  with  their 
powerful  odors. 

7.  Still  nothing  disturbed  her  from  her  place. 
Sunshine  streamed  in  through  the  windows,  —  she 
felt  it  warm  on  her  body,  —  but  it  interfered  with 
nothing  else.  A  door  opened,  and  a  breeze  caught 
her  rope ;  but  still  she  held  fast.  So  music  and 
prayer,  sunshine,  breeze,  and  scent,  were  all  there 
together ;  and  Twinette  was  among  them,  and 
saw  flies  flying  about  overhead. 

8.  This  was  enough ;  she  went  back  to  her 
rafter,  chose  a  home,  and  began  to  spin.  Before 
evening  her  web  was  completed,  her  first  prey 
caught  and  feasted  upon. 

9.  Twinette  was  now  a  philosopher.  As  she 
crossed  and  re-crossed  the  threads,  her  ideas  be- 
came cleared.     Each  line  she  fastened  brought  its 


178  FOURTH    EEADER. 

own  reflection,  and  this  was  the  way  they  went 
on :  — 

^^ Empty  space  is  an  old  wife's  tale"  — she  fixed 
that  thread  very  tight. 

10.  "  Sight  and  touch  are  very  imperfect  guides  " 
—  this  crossed  the  other  at  an  angle. 

"  Two  or  three  things  can  easily  be  in  one  place 
at  the  same  time" — this  seemed  loose  till  she 
tightened  it  by  a  second. 

"  Sunshine,  and  scent,  and  wind,  and  sound, 
don't  drive  each  other  out  of  their  places  "  — that 
thread  held  firm. 

11.  "When  one  has  sensations,  there  is  some- 
thing to  cause  them,  whether  one  sees  it,  or  feels 
it,  or  finds  it  out  or  not "  — this  was  a  wonderful 
thread ;  it  went  right  round  the  web  and  fastened 
it  down  in  several  places. 

12.  "  Light  and  darkness,  sunshine  and  wind, 
sound  and  sensation,  and  fright  and  pleasure,  don't 
keep  away  flies"  —  the  little  underlacing  threads 
looked  quite  pretty  as  she  placed  them.  "  How 
many  things  I  know  of  that  I  don't  know  much 
about" — the  web  got  thicker  every  minute  — 
"  And  perhaps  there's  ever  so  much  more  beyond 
—  ever  so  much  more  —  ever  so  much  more  — 
beyond." 


TWINETTE. 


179 


13.  These  were  her  very  last  words;  she  kept 
repeating  them  till  she  finished  her  web ;  and 
when  she  sat  up  in  state  after  supper,  she  began 
to  repeat  them  again,  for  she  could  think  of 
nothing  better  or  wiser  to  say.  But  this  was 
no  wonder,  for  all  her  thoughts  put  together  made 
nothing  but  a  cobweb  after  all ! 


Philosopher.  —  One  who  searches 
into  the  nature  and  meaning  of 
things. 

Sift  the  matter.  —  Study  it  thor- 
oughly. 


Sensations.  —  Feelings  and  ex- 
periences. 

Reflections.  —  Thoughts  upon 
what  she  saw,  heard,  or  felt. 


A  K£ADING  REVIKW.  — For  Expression. 

What  feeling  is  expressed  on  page  151? 

Read  so  as  to  give  it  strongly. 

Read  the  stanzas  that  follow  the  dash  on  page  153  to  that  on 
page  154  so  as  to  personate  the  little  boy. 

Read  the  first  sentence  on  page  156  as  if  the  author  were  re- 
peating what  some  one  had  just  asked  her. 

Begin  with  *'  Ho !   ho !  "  page  157,  and  read  to  paragraph  10. 

Read  paragraph  7,  page  161,  so  as  to  emphasize  ants,  people, 
Mr.  Jones,  and  give  a  reason  for  doing  so.  You  may  consider  it  a 
rule  that  contrasted  words,  like  ants  and  people  in  this  sentence,  are 
to  be  made  emphatic. 

On  page  164,  let  two  pupils  read  the  sayings  of  Aunt  Nellie  and 
Carrie  as  in  a  dialogue. 

Read  the  sentence  "  I  am  old,"  etc.,  page  167 ;  tell  what  words 
are  to  be  made  emphatic. 

Read  the  paragraph  that  describes  the  spider's  family-rope  on 
page  169,  marking  ^ne,  elastic,  gray,  and  manageable  by  emphasis. 

Talking  to  one's  self  is  called  soliloquy.  The  voice  can  be  made 
to  express  it.     Find  the  places  where  Twinette  practised  it. 


180  FOUKTH    READER. 


XLIV. 

knell  sch.ol-ar  un-touclied.  half  sti-f led 

knock  a-lar-um  me-tiiinks  thieves 


THE   BOISTEROUS   WIND. 

What  way  does  the  wind  come  ?     What  way  does 

he  go? 
He  rides  o'er  the  water,  and  over  the  snow, 
Through  wood;  and  through  vale ;  and  o'er  rocky 

height, 
Which  the  goat  cannot  climb,  takes  his  sounding 

flight; 
He  tosses  about  in  every  bare  tree. 
As,  if  you  look  up,  you  plainly  may  see  : 
But  how  he  will  come,  and  whither  he  goes, 
There's  never  a  scholar  in  England  knows. 

He  will  suddenly  stop  in  a  cunning  nook, 

And   ring  a  sharp  'larum;  —  but,  if   you  should 

look, 
There's  nothing  to  see  but  a  cushion  of  snow, 
Round  as  a  pillow,  and  whiter  than  milk, 
And  softer  than  if  it  were  covered  with  silk. 

Sometimes  he'll  hide  in  the  cave  of  a  rock, 
Then  whistle  as  shrill  as  the  buzzard  clock ; 


THE    BOISTEROUS    WIND.  181 

Yet  seek  him,  —  and  what  shall  jou  find  in  the 

place  ? 
Nothing  but  silence  and  empty  space ; 
Save,  in  a  corner,  a  heap  of  dry  leaves 
That  he's  left,  for  a  bed,  to  beggars  or  thieves ! 

As  soon  as  'tis  daylight,  to-morrow  with  me 
You  shall  go  to  the  orchard,  and  then  you  will  see 
That  he  has  been  there,  and  made  a  great  rout. 
And    cracked    the    branches    and    strewn    them 

about. 
Heaven  grant  that  he  spare  but  that  one  upright 

twig, 
That  looked  up  at  the  sky  so  proud  and  so  big 
All  last  summer,  as  well  you  know, 
Studded  with  apples,  a  beautiful  show ! 

Hark !  over  the  roof  he  makes  a  pause. 

And  growls  as  if  he  would  fix  his  claws 

Right  in  the  slates,  and  with  a  huge  rattle 

Drive  them  down,  like  men  in  a  battle : 

But  let  him  range  round ;  he  does  us  no  harm ; 

We  build  up  the  fire,  we're  snug  and  warm ; 

Untouched  by  his  breath,  see,  the  candle  shines 

bright. 
And  burns  with  a  clear  and  steady  light ; 


182 


FOURTH  READER. 


Books  have  we  to  read,  —  hush  !    that  half-stifled 

knell, 
Methinks  'tis  the  sound  of  the  eight  o^clock  bell. 

Come,  now  we'll  to  bed  !  and  when  we  are  there 
He  may  work  his  own  will,  and  what  shall  we 

care  ? 
He  may  knock  at  the  door,  —  we'  11  not  let  him 

in; 
May  drive  at  the  windows,  —  we  '11  laugh  at  his 

din; 
Let  him  seek  his  own  home  wherever  it  be ; 
Here's  a  cosey  warm  house  for  Edward  and  me. 

Miss  Wordsworth. 


Buzzard  clock.  —  The  beetle. 
Rout.  —  A  breaking  or  scattering. 
Cosey.  —  Snug,  well  sheltered. 
Studded.  — Adorned;  set  thickly. 


'  Larum  {alarum).  —  Anything 
used  to  give  notice  of  danger; 
or  the  noise  that  the  thing  gives. 

Methinks.  —  I  think. 


COMPOSITION. 

Write  sentences  upon  the  wind  and  its  effects,  after  a  class  con- 
versation, to  gather  the  points. 

Points  :  What  the  wind  is ;  what  winds  bring  pleasure ;  how 
they  bring  health;  ways  in  which  the  wind  is  made  useful  on 
land ;  on  water ;  damage  done  by  wind. 

Make  each  sentence  tell  as  much  as  possible. 
Join  the  sentences  into  a  paragraph. 

Write  the  subject,  "Wind,"  in  a  line  by  itself  above,  and  your 
name  in  a  line  below,  at  the  right  side. 


THE  ACORN  AND  THE  CHILD.        183 


XLV. 

mas-sive  fangs  gen-er-a-tions  knot-ted 

can-o-py  groups  nour-isli-ment  judg-ment 

false-liood         floiir-ish.  in-struc-tion  mul-ti-tude 


THE  ACORN  AND  THE  CHILD. 

1.  Look  at  the  spreading  oak,  tne  pride  of  the 
village  green.  Its  trunk  is  massive,  its  branches 
are  strong.  Its  roots,  like  crooked  fangs,  strike 
deep  into  the  soil  and  support  its  huge  bulk. 

2.  The  birds  build  among  the  boughs,  the  cattle 
rest  under  its  shade,  and  groups  of  persons  gather 
in  the  shelter  of  its  green  canopy. 

3.  Old  men  point  it  out  to  their  children  and 
tell  them  that  they  do  not  remember  when  it 
grew.  Their  fathers  and  grandfathers  and  other 
generations  have  been  born  and  have  died,  and 
this  son  of  the  forest  has  remained  the  same.  It 
has  borne  the  storms  of  two  hundred  winters. 

4.  Yet  this  large  tree  was  once  a  little  acorn 
such  as  you  might  now  pick-up  under  some 
spreading  oak.  Such  an  acorn,  whose  cup  can 
contain  but  a  drop  or  two  of  dew,  contained  the 
whole  oak.  What  are  now  its  massive  trunk,  its 
knotted  branches,  its  multitude  of  leaves,  belonged 
to  that  little  acorn. 


184 


FOUKTH  READEK. 


5.  It  grew,  it  spread,  it  unfolded  itself  little  by 
little ;  it  took  nourishment 
from  the  rain  and  the  dews 
and  the  rich  soilj  but  with- 
out the  acorn,  rain  and  dews 
and  soil  could  not  raise  an 
oak,  nor  could  they  make  the 
acorn  anything  but  an  oak. 

6.  The  mind  of  a  child  is 
like  the  acorn.  Its  powers 
are  folded  up  so  that  they  do 
not  appear. 

The  memory,  the  judg- 
ment, the  power  that  invents, 
the  feeling  of  right  and 
wrong,  all  belong  to  the  little 
child  as  the  oak  belonged  to 
the  acorn. 

7.  Think  of  the  wisest  man 
you  ever  knew,  or  of  whom 
you  ever  heard.  Think  of 
the  greatest  man  who  ever 
lived.  Think  of  a  man  who 
stands  like  that  tree,  and  shel- 
ters and  protects  a  number 

of  his  fellow-men,  and  then  say  to  yourself.  The 
mind  of  that  man  was  once  like  mine. 


THE    ACORN    AND    THE    CHILD.  185 

8.  His  thoughts  were  childish  like  my  thoughts. 
He  was  once  like  a  little  baby  child  who  knows 

nothing,  remembers  nothing,  and  cannot  tell  good 
from  evil  nor  truth  from  falsehood. 

9.  If  you  had  only  seen  an  acorn,  you  could 
never  guess  at  the  form  and  size  of  an  oak.  If 
you  had  never  listened  to  the  wisdom  of  the  wise 
man,  you  could  form  no  idea  of  him  from  the  help- 
less infant  child. 

10.  Instruction  such  as  you  are  receiving  is  the 
food  of  the  mind.  It  is  like  the  dew  and  the  rain 
and  the  rich  soil. 

11.  As  the  soil  and  the  rain  and  the  dew  cause 
the  tree  to  put  forth  its  tender  shoots,  so  do  books 
and  study  feed  the  mind  and  make  its  hidden 
powers  unfold. 

12.  Think,  then,  while  you  are  a  child  of  the 
man  within  you. 

Take  the  good  teachings  that  are  given  you, 
that  he  may  grow  and  flourish.  You  cannot 
guess  how  excellent  he  may  become.  It  was  long 
before  this  oak  showed  its  greatness ;  year  after 
year  passed,  and  it  had  only  shot  a  little  way 
above  the  ground ;  a  child  might  have  pulled  it  up 
with  his  little  hands.  It  was  long  before  any  one 
called  it  a  tree.  It  seems  to  you  a  long  time 
before  the  child  will  become  a  man. 


186 


FOURTH  READER. 


The  acorn  might  have  perished  in  the  ground, 
the  young  tree  might  have  been  shorn  of  its  grace- 
ful boughs,  the  twig  might  have  been  bent  so  that 
the  tree  would  have  been  crooked,  but  if  it  grew 
at  all  it  could  have  been  nothing  but  an  oak ;  it 
could  not  have  been  grass  or  flowers  which  live  a 
little  time  and  then  perish. 

The  child  may  become  a  foolish  man,  he  may 
be  a  wicked  man  ;  but  he  must  be  a  man. 

Oh !  cherish  then  this  precious  gift  of  a  soul, 
feed  it  with  truth,  nourish  it  with  knowledge. 

The  oak  will  last  for  centuries,  but  man  was 
made  for  an  immortal  life. 


Fangs. —  Long,  strong  tusks  or 
teeth ;  the  hooked  talons  of  birds 
of  prey. 

Nourishment. — Food ;  that  which 
sustains  life  or  makes  growth. 

Cherish. —  Care  for.  (See  note 
on  Cherished,  page  24.) 

Immortal.  —  Never  ending  ;  not 
perishable. 

Centuries.  —  A  century  is  a  hun- 
dred years. 


Canopy.  —  A  covering  overhead, 
as  of  a  bed,  throne,  or  any  rest- 
ing-place. 

Generation.  —  Not  a  fixed  time. 
The  time  between  the  life  of 
father  and  son ;  thus,  children 
count  as  one  generation,  fathers 
another,  and  grandparents  a 
third.  In  time,  about  thirty 
years. 


Compare  the  formp  of  nourish^  flourish,  cherish,  perish. 
Read  in  this  connection  "  The  Story  of  the  Old  Oak  Tree,"  by 
Hans  Andersen. 


QUERCUS    ALBA.  '  187 


XL  VI. 


es-pe-cial-ly      Quer-cus     in-ex-pe-ri-enced     ig-no-rance 
coc-cin-e-a         a-bash.ed    in-for-ma-tion  gro-tesque 

dif-fi-cul-ties     por-tal         ac-cus-tomed  en-cour-aged 


QUERCUS    ALBA.  — Part  I. 

1.  Quercus  Alba  lay  on  the  ground,  looking  up 
at  the  sky.  He  was  in  a  little  brown  rustic 
cradle  which  would  be  pretty  for  any  baby,  but 
was  especially  becoming  to  his  shining,  bronzed 
complexion ;  for  although  his  name,  Alba,  is  the 
Latin  word  for  white,  he  did  not  belong  to  the 
white  race. 

2.  He  was  trying  to  play  with  his  cousins, 
Coccinea  and  Rubra,  but  they  were  two  or  three 
yards  from  him,  and  not  one  of  the  three  dared 
roll  any  distance  for  fear  of  rolling  out  of  his 
cradle.     So  it  was  not  a  very  lively  play. 

3.  Presently  Rubra,  who  was  a  sturdy  little 
fellow,  hardly  afraid  of  anything,  summoned 
courage  to  roll  fully  half  a  yard;  and,  having 
come  within  speaking  distance,  began  to  tell 
how  his  brother  had  that  very  morning  started 
on  the  grand  underground  tour,  which  to  the 
Quercus  family  is  much  like  what  going  to 
Europe  would  be  for  you  and  me. 


188  •  FOUKTH    HEADER. 

4.  Coccinea  thought  the  account  very  stupid. 
He  said  all  his  brothers  had  been,  and  he  should 
go  himself  sometime,  he  supposed  ;  then  he  gave 
a  shrug  to  his  shoulders,  which  set  his  cradle 
rocking,  and  fell  asleep  in  the  very  face  of  his 
visitors. 

6.  Not  so.  Alba ;  this  was  all  news  to  him,  — 
grand  news.  He  was  young  and  inexperienced, 
and  full  of  roving  fancies.  He  lifted  his  head 
as  far  as  he  dared,  nodded  with  delight  as  Rubra 
described  the  departure,  and  asked  eagerly,  when 
his  cousin  had  finished,  "And  what  will  he  do 
there?" 

"Do?"  said  Rubra,  "do?  why,  he  will  do  just 
what  everybody  else  does  who  goes  on  the  grand 
tour." 

6.  Now  this  was  no  answer  at  all,  and  yet 
little  Alba  was  quite  abashed  by  it,  and  dared 
not  push  the  question  further  for  fear  of  dis- 
playing his  ignorance.  But  this  was  a  mistake, 
and  there  is  only  one  way  to  correct  a  mistake 
of  this  kind.  Alba  happily  resolved  on  it  at 
once.  "If,"  said  he,  "Rubra  does  not  choose  to 
tell  me  about  the  grand  tour,  I  shall  go  and  see 
for  myself." 

7.  It  was  a  brave   resolve  for  a   little   fellow 


QUERCUS  ALBA.  189 

like  him.  He  lost  no  time  in  preparing  to  carry 
it  out ;  but^  on  pushing  against  the  nearest  gate 
that  led  to  the  underground  road,  he  found  that 
the  frost  had  fastened  it  securely,  and  he  must 
wait  for  a  warmer  day.  In  the  meantime,  afraid 
to  ask  any  more  questions,  he  yet  kept  his  ears 
open  to  gather  any  bits  of  information  that 
might  be  useful  for  his  journey. 

8.  Listening  ears  can  always  hear ;  and  Alba 
very  soon  began  to  learn  from  the  old  trees  over- 
head, from  the  dry,  rustling  leaves  around,  and 
from  the  little  chirping  birds  that  chattered  in 
the  sunshine.  In  the  night  a  warm,  melting 
rain  opened  the  frozen  gateway,  and  he  boldly 
rolled  out  of  his  cradle  forever,  and  slipping 
through  its  portal,  was  lost  to  sight.  The  little 
chirping  birds  sung,  "  No ;  no,  they  never  come 
back,"  and  a  chill  was  in  his  heart ;  but  he  held 
to  his  purpose.  His  mother  looked  for  her  baby, 
and  his  brothers  and  cousins  began  to  feel  sorry 
to  miss  their  playmate.  Rubra  would  have 
petted  his  cousin  with  all  his  heart  now,  but 
Alba  was  never  seen  again  by  his  old  companions 
and  friends. 

9.  "How  dark  it  is,  and  how  hard  to  make 
one's     way     through     this     thick     atmosphere," 


190  FOURTH    READER. 

thought  little  Alba,  as  he  pushed  and  pushed  in 
the  soft  mud.  Presently  a  busy  hum  sounded 
all  about  him,  and  becoming  accustomed  to  the 
darkness,  he  could  see  little  forms  moving  indus- 
triously to  and  fro. 

10.  Children  who  live  above,  and  play  on  the 
hillsides,  have  little  idea  what  is  going  on  under 
their  feet ;  how  the  dwarfs  and  fairies  are  work- 
ing there,  weaving  moss  carpets  and  grass-blades, 
forming  and  painting  flowers  and  scarlet  mush- 
rooms, tending  and  nursing  all  manner  of  deli- 
cate things,  which  have  yet  to  grow  strong 
enough  to  push  up  and  see  the  outside  life, 
learn  to  bear  its  cold  winds,  and  rejoice  in  its 
sunshine. 

11.  While  Alba  was  seeing  all  this,  he  was 
still  struggling  on,  but  very  slowly  ;  for  first  he 
ran  against  the  stump  of  an  old  tree,  then 
knocked  his  head  upon  a  sharp  stone,  and 
finally,  bruised  and  sore,  he  declared  he  could 
go  no  further. 

12.  At  that,  two  odd  little  beings  sprang  to 
his  side,  —  the  one  brown  as  the  earth  itself, 
with  eyes  like  diamonds  for  brightness,  and  deft 
little  fingers,  cunning  in  all  works  of  skill.  Pull- 
ing off  his  wisp  of  a  cap,  and  making  a  grotesque 


QUERCUS    ALBA.  191 

little  bow,  he  asked,  "  Will  you  take  a  guide  for 
the  underground  tour?" 

"That  I  will,"  said  Alba;  "for  I  no  longer 
find  myself  able  to  move  a  step." 

13.  "Ha!  ha!"  laughed  the  dwarf ;  "of  course 
you  can't  move  in  that  great  body;  the  ways 
are  too  narrow;  you  must  come  out  of  yourself 
before  you  can  get  on.  Put  out  your  foot  now ; 
I  will  show  you  how  to  step." 

14.  "Out  of  myself?"  cried  Alba;  "why,  that 
is  to  die.  My  foot,  did  you  say  ?  I  have  no 
feet ;  I  was  born  in  a  cradle,  and  have  always 
lived  in  it  till  now.  So  I  never  could  do  any- 
thing but  rock  and  roll." 

15.  "  Ha !  ha !  ha  !  "  again  laughed  the  dwarf, 
"  hear  him  talk.  No  feet,  does  he  say  ?  Why, 
he  has  a  thousand  if  he  only  knew  it;  hands, 
too,  more  than  he  can  count.  Ask  him,  sister, 
and  see  what  he  will  say  to  you." 

16.  With  that,  a  soft  little  voice  said  cheer- 
fully, "  Give  me  your  hand,  that  I  may  lead  you 
on  the  upward  part  of  your  journey ;  for,  poor 
little  fellow,  it  is  indeed  true  that  you  do  not 
know  how  to  live  out  of  your  cradle,  and  we 
must  show  you  the  way." 

17.  Alba  was  encouraged  by  this  kindly  speech. 


192 


FOUKTH   READER. 


and  turning  a  little  toward  the  speaker,  was 
about  to  say  (as  his  mother  long  ago  taught 
him  in  all  difficulties),  "I'll  try/'  when  a  little 
cracking  noise  startled  the  whole  company,  and 
hardly  knowing  what  he  did,  Alba  thrust  out, 
through  a  slit  in  his  shiny  brown  skin,  a  little 
foot,  reaching  downward  to  follow  the  dwarf's 
lead,  and  a  little  hand  extending  upward.  The 
hand  was  quickly  grasped  by  that  of  the  fairy, 
who  stood  smiling  and  lovely  in  fair  green  gar- 
ments, with  a  tender^  tiny  grass-blade  binding 
back  her  golden  hair. 

18.  Oh,  what  a  thrill  went  through  Alba,  as  he 
felt  this  new  possession!  a  hand  and  a  foot, — a 
thousand  such,  had  they  not  said  ?  What  it  all 
meant  he  could  only  wonder. 


Summoned.  —  Called,  command- 
ed to  come. 

Rustic.  —  Belonging  to  the  coun- 
try ;  natural ;  not  polished. 

Sturdy.  —  Hardy,  stout,  strong. 

Tour  (toor}.  —  A  going  around  as 
in  a  circle ;  therefore  a  journey 
through  a  country. 


Inexperienced. — Unlearned,  not 
having  met  such  things  in  his 
own  life. 

Abashed.  —  Ashamed,  confused. 

Portal.  —  An  opening,  or  gateway. 

Grotesque.  —  Odd,  droll. 

Deft.  —  Apt,  handy,  skilful,  and 
neat. 


STUDY. 

The  parts  of  a  plant. 


QUERCUS    ALBA.  193 


XL  VII. 

pro-gress-es         at-oms  ni-tro-gen  rec-og-nized 

ma-te-ri-al  car-bon  prompt-ly  ex-cel-lent 


QUERCUS    ALBA.  — Part  II. 

1.  The  dwarf  had  need  of  his  bright  eyes  and 
his  skilful  hands,  for  the  soft,  tiny  foot  that 
trusted  itself  to  him  was  a  mere  baby,  that  had 
to  find  its  way  through  a  strange,  dark  world; 
and  what  was  more,  it  must  not  only  be  guided, 
but  also  fed  and  tended  most  carefully.  The 
bright  eyes  must  go  before,  and  the  brown  fingers 
dig  out  a  roadway,  and  the  foot  must  trust  its 
guide  utterly,  and  follow  on. 

2.  There  is  no  longer  any  danger.  He  runs 
against  no  rocks;  he  loses  his  way  among  no 
tangled  roots;  the  hard  earth  seems  to  open 
gently  before  him,  leading  him  to  the  fields  where 
his  own  best  food  lies,  and  to  hidden  springs  of 
sweet  fresh  water. 

3.  Do  you  wonder  when  I  say  the  foot  must  be  fed  ? 
Aren't  your  own  feet  fed  ?  To  be  sure,  your  feet 
have  no  mouths  of  their  own;  but  does  not  the 
one  mouth  of  your  face  eat  for  your  whole  body,  — 
hands  and  feet,  ears  and  eyes,  and  all  the  rest  ? 


194  FOURTH    READER. 

4.  The  difference  between  you  and  Alba  is  that 
his  foot  has  mouths  of  its  own ;  and  as  it  wanders 
through  the  earth  and  finds  anything  good  for 
food^  it  eats  both  for  itself  and  for  the  rest  of  the 
body ;  for  as  the  little  foot  progresses,  it  does  not 
take  the  body  with  it,  but  only  grows  longer  and 
longer  and  longer,  until,  while  at  one  end  it  remains 
at  home,  fastened  to  the  body,  at  the  other  it  has 
travelled  a  distance  such  as  would  be  counted  miles 
by  the  atoms  of  people  who  live  in  the  under  world. 

5.  And,  moreover,  the  foot  does  not  go  on  alone ; 
others  have  come,  by  tens  and  even  hundreds,  to 
join  it,  and  Alba  begins  to  understand  what  was 
meant  by  "  thousands."  Thus  the  feet  travel  on, 
running  some  to  this  side,  some  to  that ;  here  dig- 
ging through  a  bed  of  clay,  and  there  burying 
themselves  in  a  soft  sand-hill ;  taking  now  a 
mouthful  of  carbon  and  again  one  of  nitrogen. 

6.  These  two  articles  of  food  do  not  seem  to  you 
like  bread  and  butter,  nor  are  they ;  but  you  will 
some  day  learn  that  bread  and  butter  are  made  in 
part  of  these  very  same  things,  and  that  they  are 
as  useful  to  Alba  as  your  breakfast,  dinner,  and 
supper  are  to  you.  For  just  as  bread  and  butter 
and  other  food  build  your  body,  so  carbon  and 
nitrogen  build  his. 


QUERCUS    ALBA.  195 

7.  You  will  presently  see  what  a  fine,  large, 
strong  body  they  can  make;  then  you  will 
perhaps  better  understand  what  they  are. 

Shall  we  leave  the  feet  to  travel  their  own  way 
for  a  time,  and  see  where  the  fairy  has  led  the 
little  hand. 

QUERCUS    ALBA's    NEW    SIGHT    OF    THE 
UPPER  WORLD. 

8.  It  was  a  soft,  helpless",  little  baby  hand.  Its 
folded  fingers  lay  listlessly  in  the  fairy's  gentle 
grasp. 

"Now  we  will  go  up,"  she  said. 

He  had  thought  he  was  going  down,  and  had 
heard  the  chirping  birds  say  he  would  never 
come  back.  But  he  had  no  will  to  resist  the 
gentle  motion,  for  it  seemed  to  be,  after  all, 
exactly  what  he  wanted. 

9.  Presently  he  found  himself  lifted  out  of  the 
dark  earth,  feeling  again  the  bright  sunshine 
and  stirred  by  the  breeze  that  rustled  the  dry 
leaves  that  lay  all  about  him.  Here,  too,  were 
all  his  old  companions,  —  the  chirping  birds,  his 
cousins,  old  grandfather  Rubra,  and  best  of  all, 
his  dear  mother;  but  the  odd  thing  about  it  all 
was    that    no   one    seemed    to    know   him.      He 


196  FOURTH    READER. 

began  to  understand  why  the  chirping  birds  said, 
"  They  never  come  back !  they  never  come 
back ! "  for  they  truly  came  in  so  new  a  form 
that  none  of  their  old  friends  recognized  them. 

10.  Everything  that  has  hands  wants  to  work ; 
that  is,  hands  are  such  excellent  tools  that  no 
one  who  is  the  happy  possessor  of  a  pair  is  quite 
happy  till  he  uses  them. 

Alba  began  to  have  a  longing  desire  to  build 
a  stem  and  raise  himself  up  among  his  neigh- 
bors, and  he  looked  about  for  material  with 
which  to  build.  Promptly  the  little  feet  now 
made  answer  to  his  question, — 

11.  "  You  want  to  build,  do  you  ?  well,  here  is 
carbon,  the  very  best  material;  there  is  nothing 
like  it  for  walls.  It  makes  the  most  beautiful, 
firm  wood  ;  wait  a  minute,  and  we  will  begin  to 
send  up  some  that  we  have  been  storing  for  your 
use." 

12.  The  busy  hands  go  to  work,  and  the  child 
grows  day  by  day.  Having  learned  the  use  of  car- 
bon, these  hands  gather  it  for  themselves  out  of 
the  air  about  them,  which  is  a  great  storehouse 
for  many  materials  which  our  eyes  cannot  see. 

13.  And  Alba  learns  that  to  grow  and  to  build 
are  indeed  the  same  thing  ;  for  his  body  is  tak- 


QUERCUS   ALBA. 


197 


ing  the  form  of  a  strong  young  tree.  His 
branches  are  spreading  for  a  roof  over  the  heads 
of  a  hundred  delicate  flowers,  making  a  home 
for  many  a  bushy-tailed  squirrel  and  pleasant- 
voiced  wood-bird;  for,  you  see,  whoever  builds 
cannot  build  for  himself  alone  ;  all  his  neighbors 
have  the  benefit  of  his  work,  and  all  enjoy  it 
together. 

14.  What  at  the  first  was  so  hard  to  attempt, 
became  grand  and  beautiful  in  the  doing;  and 
little  Alba,  instead  of  serving  merely  for  a  squir- 
rel's breakfast,  as  he  might  have  done  had  he 
not  bravely  ventured  on  his  journey,  stands 
before  us  a  noble  tree,  which  is  to  live  a  hun- 
dred years  or  more! 

15.  Do  you  want  to  know  what  kind  of  a  tree  ? 
Well,  some  older  brother  or  sister,  who  studies 
Latin,  will  tell  you  that  Quercus  means  oak. 
Now  you  can  tell  what  Alba's  rustic  cradle  was, 
and  who  his  cousins  Rubra  and  Coccinea  (words 
for  red)  were. 

Miss  Andrews. 


Carbon  and  Nitrogen  are  found 
in  all  vegetable  and  animal  sub- 


stances.    It  is  the  carbon  in  the 
oak  that  makes  it  good  to  burn. 


A    COMPOSITION. 

"The  Story  of  a  Morning-Glory  Seed.* 


198  FOURTH    READER. 

XL  VIII. 

scarce-ly  tongue  cliirQ-neys  cof-fins 


THE  CHIMNEY-SWEEP. 

When  my  mother  died,  I  was  very  young, 
And  my  father  sold  me  while  yet  my  tongue 
Could  scarcely  cry,  "  'weep !  'weep !  'weep !  'weep ! " 
So  your  chimneys  I  sweep  and  in  soot  I  sleep. 

There's  little  Tom  Dacre,  who  cried  when  his  head, 
That  curl'd  like  a  lamb's  back,  was  shaved  ;  so  I 

said, 
"  Hush,  Tom  !  never  mind  it,  for  when  your  head's 

bare, 
You  know  that  the  soot  cannot  spoil  your  white 

hair." 

And  so  he  was  quiet ,  and  that  very  night, 
As  Tom  was  a-sleeping,  he  had  such  a  sight. 
That  thousands  of  sweepers,  Dick,  Joe,  Ned,  and 

Jack, 
Were  all  of  them  lock'd  up  in  coffins  of  black. 

And  by  came  an  angel,  who  had  a  bright  key, 
And  he  open'd  the  coffins,  and  set  them  all  free  5 


THE    CHIMNEY-SWEEP.  199 

Then  down  a  green  plain,  leaping,  laughing  they 

run, 
And  wash  in  a  river,  and  shine  in  the  sun. 

Then  naked  and  white,  all  their  bags  left  behind. 
They  rise  upon  clouds,  and  sport  in  the  wind  ^ ; 
And  the  angel  told  Tom,  if  he'd  be  a  good  boy. 
He'd  have  God  for  his  father,  and  never  want  joy. 

And  so  Tom  awoke ;  and  we  rose  in  the  dark, 
And  got  with  our  bags  and  our  brushes  to  work ; 
Though  the  morning  was  cold,  Tom  was  happy 

and  warm : 
So,  if  all  do  their  duty,  they  need  not  fear  harm. 

W.  Blake. 

TAIiES    OUT    OF    SCHOOL. 

Here  are  my  papers,  papa.  They  show  what  we  wrote  in  school 
each  day  of  the  week. 

This  one,  you  see,  is  a  letter.  It  does  not  say  much.  We  write 
so  as  to  learn  ways  for  beginning  and  ending  letters  to  different 
people.     This  is  to  a  stranger. 

Tuesday's  lesson  was  on  using  capitals.  See  how  many  there 
are.     It  was  a  dictation. 

Wednesday  we  used  the  writing  time  in  trying  to  read  all  kinds 
of  handwriting.     Miss  M.  had  a  great  many  samples. 

This  is  Thursday's.  It  is  a  notice  of  a  dog  we  played  was  lost ; 
and  to-day  we  wrote  all  the  words  that  any  one  had  failed  in  all 
the  week.     There  are  fifteen,  but  I  missed  only  one. 

1  Pronounce  wind  (wind)  so  as  to  rhyme  with  behind. 


200  FOURTH    READER. 


XLIX. 

chintz  fur-ni-ture  puz-zled  re-la-tion 

flues  for-eign  ter-ri-er  sav-a-ges 


LITTLE   TOM    THE   CHIMNEY-SWEEP.— Part  I. 

1.  Tom  and  his  master  did  not  go  into  Harth- 
over  House  by  the  great  iron  gates,  as  if  they  had 
been  dukes  or  bishops,  but  round  the  back  way, 
and  a  very  long  way  round  it  was ;  and  into  a  lit- 
tle back  door,  and  then  in  a  passage  the  house- 
keeper met  them,  in  such  a  flowered  chintz 
dressing-gown,  that  Tom  mistook  her  for  my 
lady  herself ;  and  she  gave  Grimes  solemn  orders 
about  "  You  will  take  care  of  this,  and  take  care 
of  that,"  as  if  he  were  going  up  the  chimneys,  and 
not  Tom. 

2.  And  Grimes  listened,  and  said  every  now  and 
then,  under  his  voice,  "You'll  mind  that,  you 
little  beggar ! "  and  Tom  did  mind,  at  least  all 
that  he  could.  And  then  the  housekeeper  turned 
them  into  a  grand  room,  all  covered  up  in  sheets 
of  brown  paper,  and  bade  them  begin,  in  a  lofty 
and  tremendous  voice :  and  so  after  a  whimper  or 
two,  and  a  kick  from  his  master,  into  the  grate 


LITTLE    TOM    THE    CHIMNEY-SWEEP.  201 

Tom  went,  and  up  the  chimney,  while  a  house- 
maid stayed  in  the  room  to  watch  the  furniture. 

8.  How  many  chimneys  he  swept  I  cannot  say ; 
but  he  swept  so  many  that  he  got  quite  tired,  and 
puzzled  too,  for  they  were  not  like  the  town  flues 
to  which  he  was  used,  but  such  as  are  to  be  found 
in  old  country-houses,  large  and  crooked  chimneys, 
which  had  been  altered  again  and  again,  till  they 
ran  into  one  another. 

4.  So  Tom  fairly  lost  his  way  in  them  ;  not  that 
he  cared  much  for  that,  though  he  was  in  pitchy 
darkness,  for  he  was  as  much  at  home  in  a  chim- 
ney as  a  mole  is  under  ground ;  but  at  last,  coming 
down  as  he  thought  the  right  chimney,  he  came 
down  the  wrong  one,  and  found  himself  standing 
on  the  hearthrug  in  a  room  the  like  of  which  he 
had  hever  seen  before. 

6.  Tom  had  never  seen  the  like.  He  had  never 
been  in  gentlefolks'  rooms  but  when  the  carpets 
were  all  up  and  the  curtains  down,  and  the  furni- 
ture huddled  together  under  a  cloth,  and  the  pic- 
tures covered  with  aprons  and  dusters ;  and  he  had 
often  enough  wondered  what  the  rooms  were  like 
when  they  were  all  ready  for  the  quality  to  sit  in. 
And  now  he  saw,  and  he  thought  the  sight  very 
pretty. 


202  FOURTH    READER. 

6.  The  room  was  all  dressed  in  white ;  white 
window  curtains,  white  bed  curtains,  white  furni- 
ture, and  white  walls,  with  just  a  few  lines  of  pink 
here  and  there.  The  carpet  was  all  over  gay  little 
flowers,  and  the  walls  hung  with  pictures  in  gilt 
frames,  which  amused  Tom  very  much.  There 
were  pictures  of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  and  pictures 
of  dogs  and  horses.  The  horses  he  liked,  but  the 
dogs  he  did  not  care  for  much,  for  there  were  no 
bull-dogs  amongst  them,  not  even  a  terrier. 

7.  But  of  the  two  pictures  which  took  his  fancy 
the  most,  one  was  a  man  in  long  garments,  with 
little  children  and  their  mothers  round  him,  who 
was  laying  his  hand  upon  the  children's  heads. 
That  was  a  very  pretty  picture,  Tom  thought,  to 
hang  in  a  lady's  room ;  for  he  could  see  that  it 
was  a  lady's  room  by  the  dresses  which  lay 
about. 

8.  The  other  picture  was  that  of  a  man  nailed 
to  a  cross,  which  surprised  Tom  much.  He  fan- 
cied that  he  had  seen  something  like  it  in  a  shop 
window.  But  why  was  it  there  ?  "  Poor  man," 
thought  Tom,  "and  he  looks  so  kind  and  quiet. 
But  why  should  the  lady  have  such  a  sad  picture 
in  her  room  ?  Perhaps  it  was  some  relation  of 
hers,  who  had  been  murdered  by  savages  in  foreign 


THE   PET   LAMB. 


203 


parts,  and  she  kept  it  there  for  a  remembrance." 
And  Tom  felt  sad,  and  awed,  and  turned  to  look 
at  something  else. 


Chintz.  —  Calico. 
Solemn  (-em).  —  Serious,  grave. 
Tremendous.  —  Fearful,  awful. 
The   quality,  gentlefolks. — Per- 
sons of  high  rank. 


Pitchy.  —  Like  pitch,  black. 

Foreign.  —  Belonging  to  other 
countries. 

Awed.  —  Filled  with  awe;  i.e.,  re- 
spect, or  reverence,  and  fear. 


es-pied 
bal-lad 


teth-ered 
un-ob-served 


re-traced 
meas-ured 


wool-len 
cov-ert 


THE    PET    LAMB.  — Part  I. 

The  dew  was  falling  fast,  the  stars  began  to  blink : 
I  heard  a  voice ;  it  said,  "  Drink,  pretty  creature, 

drink!" 
And  looking  o'er  the  hedge,  before  me  I  espied 
A  snow-white  mountain  lamb,  with  a  maiden  at  its 

side. 


Nor  sheep,  nor  kine  were  near ;  the  lamb  was  all 

alone. 
And  by  a  slender  cord  was  tether'd  to  a  stone ; 


204  FOURTH    READER. 

With  one  knee  on  the  grass  did  the  little  maiden 

kneel,  _ . 

While  to  that  mountain  lamb  she  gave  its  evening 

meal. 

The  lamb,  while  from  her  hand  he  thus  his  supper 

took, 
Seem'd  to  feast  with  head  and  ears ;  and  his  tail 

with  pleasure  shook : 
"  Drink,  pretty  creature,  drink !  "  she  said,  in  such 

a  tone 
That  I  almost  received  her  heart  into  my  own. 

'Twas  little  Barbara  Lewthwaite,  a  child  of  beauty 

rare! 
I  watch' d  them  with  delight,  they  were  a  lovely 

pair; 
Now  with  her  empty  can  the  maiden  turn'd  away  ; 
But  ere  ten  yards  were  gone,  her  footsteps  did  she 

stay. 

Eight  towards  the  lamb  she  look'd ;  and  from  that 

shady  place 
I  unobserved  could  see  the  workings  of  her  face : 
If  nature  to  her  tongue  could  measured  numbers 

bring, 


THE    PET    LAMB.  205 

Thus,  thought  I,  to  her  lamb  that  little  maid  might 
sing :  — 

"  What  ails  thee,  young  one  ?  what  ?    Why  pull  so 

at  thy  cord  ? 
Is  it  not  well  with  thee  ?  well  both  for  bed  and 

board  ? 
Thy  plot  of  grass  is  soft,  and  green  as  grass  can  be  ; 
Rest,  little  young  one,  rest ;  what  is't  that  aileth 

thee? 

"  What  is  it  thou  wouldst  seek  ?  What  is  want- 
ing to  thy  heart  ? 

Thy  limbs  are  they  not  strong  ?  and  beautiful  thou 
art! 

This  grass  is  tender  grass ;  these  flowers  they  have 
no  peers ; 

And  that  green  corn  all  day  is  rustling  in  thy  ears. 

"  If  the  sun  be    shining  hot,  do  but  stretch  thy 

woollen  chain ; 
This  beech  is  standing  by,  its  covert  thou  canst 

gain; 
For   rain  and  mountain-storms!  —  the   like   thou 

need'st  not  fear. 
The  rain  and  storm'  are  things  that  scarcely  can 

come  here. 


206  FOURTH    READER 


LI. 

yean  be-like  hearth.  re-traced 

kind-er  ■wh.ith.-er  draughts  for-ever-more 


THE    PET    LAMB.  — Part  II. 

"  Rest,  little  young  one^  rest  -,  thou  hast  forgot  the 

day 
When  my  father  found  thee   first   in   places   far 

away; 
Many  flocks   were   on   the   hills,  but   thou   wert 

own'd  by  none, 
And  thy  mother  from  thy  side  forevermore  was 

gone. 

"  He  took  thee  in  his  arms,  and  in  pity  brought 

thee  home : 
A  blessed  day  for  thee!  —  then  whither  wouldst 

thou  roam  ? 
A  faithful  nurse   thou   hast;    the   dam   that  did 

thee  yean 
Upon   the   mountain-tops   no   kinder  could   have 

been. 

"  Thou  know'st  that  twice  a  day  I  have  brought 
thee  in  this  can 


THE    PET    LAMB.  207 

Fresh   water   from   the   brook,   as   clear   as  ever 

ran; 
And  twice  in  the  day,  when  the  ground  is  wet 

with  dew, 
I  bring  thee  draughts  of  milk,  warm  milk  it  is  and 

new. 

"  Thy  limbs  will  shortly  be  twice  as  stout  as  they 

are  now ; 
Then  I'll  yoke  thee  to  my  cart  like  a  pony  in  the 

plough ! 
My  playmate  thou  shalt  be ;  and  when   the  wind 

is  cold. 
Our  hearth  shall  be  thy  bed,  our  house  shall  be 

thy  fold. 

"  It  will  not,  will  not  rest !  —  Poor  creature,  can 

it  be 
That  'tis  thy  mother  s  heart  which  is  working  so 

in  thee  ? 
Things  that  I  know  not  of  belike  to  thee  are  dear. 
And  dreams  of  things  which  thou  canst  neither 

see  nor  hear. 

"  Alas,  the  mountain-tops  that  look  so  green  and 
fair ! 


208  FOURTH    READER. 

I've  heard  of  fearful  winds  and  darkness  that  come 

there; 
The  little  brooks  that  seem  all  pastime  and  all 

play, 
When  they  are  angry,  roar  like  lions  for  their 

prey. 

"  Here  thou  need'st  not  dread  the  raven  in  the 

sky; 
Night  and  day  thou  art  safe,  — our  cottage  is  hard 

by- 

Why  bleat  so  after  me?     Why  pull   so   at   thy 

chain  ? 
Sleep  —  and  at  break  of  day  I  will  come  to  thee 

again !  " 

As  homeward  through  the  lane  I  went  with  lazy 

feet, 
This  song  to  myself  did  I  oftentimes  repeat ; 
And  it  seem'd,  as  I  retraced  the  ballad  line  by  line. 
That  but  half  of  it  was  hers,  and  one  half  of  it 

was  TYiine, 

Again^  and  once  again^  did  I  repeat  the  song ; 
"  Nay,"   said  I,  "  more  than  half  to  the  damsel 
must  belong !  — 


LITTLE   TOM   THE   CHIMKEY-SWEEP. 


209 


For  she  look'd  with  Buch  a  look,  and  she  spake 
with  such  a  tone,  ^Oa 

That  I  almost  received  her  heart  into  my  own/' 


W.  Wordsworth; 

Unobserved.  —  Not  noticed,  not 

Belike.  —  Maybe,  probably. 

seen. 

Retrace. —Trace  back,  go  back 

Measured  numbers.— Verse,  poe- 

by the  same  way.                       .- 

try. 

Kine.  —  Cows ;  the  plural  of  cow. 

Peers.  — Equals. 

Yean. -Bear  or  bring  forth. 

Covert.  —  Covering,  shelter. 

Ballad.  —  A  ballad  was  first  a  song 

Pastime,      passtime.  —  Amuse- 

to dance  by,  then  any  song  with 

ment. 

simple  verses  telling  a  storyv -^ 

:>>^^ 


asrton-isli-inent 


LII. 
■wrist  raag-no-lia 


aii-gri-ly 


LITTLE   TOM    THE    CHIMNEY-SWEEP.  — Part  II.,., 

1.  The  next  thing  Tom  saw,  and  that,  too> 
puzzled  him,  was  a  washing-stand,  with  jugs  and 
basins,  and  soap  and  brushes  and  towels,  and  a 
large  bath  full  of  clean  water.  "What  a  heap 
of  things  all  for  washing !  She  must  be  a  very- 
dirty  lady,"  thought  Tom,  "  to  want  as  much 
scrubbing  as  all  that.  But  she  must  be  very 
cunning  to  put  the  dirt  so  well  out  of  the  way 


210  FOURTH    READER. 

afterwards,  for   I   don't   see   a   speck   about   the 
room,  not  even  on  the  very  towels." 

2.  And  then,  looking  towards  the  bed,  he  saw 
that  dirty  lady,  and  held  his  breath  with  aston- 
ishment. 

Under  the  snow-white  coverlet  upon  the  snow- 
white  pillow,  lay  the  most  beautiful  little  girl 
Tom  had  ever  seen.  Her  cheeks  were  almost 
as  white  as  the  pillow,  and  her  hair  was  like 
threads  of  gold  spread  all  about  over  the  bed. 
She  might  have  been  as  old  as  Tom,  or  maybe 
a  year  or  two  older,  but  Tom  did  not  think  of 
that ;  he  thought  only  of  her  delicate  skin  and 
golden  hair,  and  wondered  if  she  were  a  real 
live  person,  or  one  of  the  wax  dolls  he  had  seen 
in  the  shops.  But  when  he  saw  her  breathe, 
he  made  up  his  mind  that  she  was  alive,  and 
stood  staring  at  her  as  if  she  had  been  an  angel 
out  of  heaven. 

3.  "  No,  she  cannot  be  dirty ;  she  never  could 
have  been  dirty,"  thought  Tom  to  himself,  and 
then  he  thought,  "  Are  all  people  like  that  when 
they  are  washed  ? "  And  he  looked  at  his  own 
wrist,  and  tried  to  rub  the  soot  off,  and  won- 
dered if  it  ever  would  come  off.  "Certainly  I 
should  look  much  prettier  then,  if  I  grew  at  all 
like  her." 


LITTLE    TOM    THE    CHIMNEY-SWEEP. 


211 


4.  And  looking  rounds  he  suddenly  saw,  stand- 
ing close  to  him,  a  little  ugly,  black,  ragged 
figure,  with  bleared  eyes  and  grinning  white 
teeth.  He  turned  on  it  angrily,  "  What  did 
such  a  little  black  ape  want  in  that  sweet  young 


lady's  room  ? "  And  behold,  it  was  himself,  re- 
flected in  a  great  mirror,  the  like  of  which  he 
had  never  seen  before. 

5.  And  Tom,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  found 
out   that   he  was  dirty,  and  burst   into   tears  of 


212  FOURTH    EEADER. 

shame  and  anger,  and  turned  to  sneak  up  the 
chimney  again  and  hide;  and  upset  the  fender, 
and  threw  the  fire-irons  down,  with  a  noise  as 
of  two  thousand  tin  kettles  tied  to  ten  thousand 
mad  dogs'  tails. 

6.  Up  jumped  the  little  white  lady  in  her  bed, 
and  seeing  Tom,  screamed  as  shrill  as  any  pea- 
cock. In  rushed  a  stout  old  nurse  from  the 
next  room,  and  seeing  Tom  likewise,  made  up 
her  mind  that  he  had  come  to  rob,  plunder, 
destroy,  and  burn ;  and  dashed  at  him,  as  he 
lay  over  the  fender,  so  fast  that  she  caught  him 
by  the  jacket. 

7.  But  she  did  not  hold  him ;  Tom  would  have 
been  ashamed  to  face  his  friends  forever  if  he 
had  been  stupid  enough  to  be  caught  by  an  old 
woman;  so  he  doubled  under  the  good  lady's 
aym,  across  the  room,  and  out  of  the  window 
in  a  moment. 

8.  He  did  not  need  to  drop  out,  though  he 
would  have  done  so  bravely  enough,  for  all 
under  the  window  spread  a  tree,  with  great 
leaves,  and  sweet  white  fiowers,  almost  as  big 
as  his  head.  It  was  a  magnolia ;  and  down  he 
went,  like  a  cat,  and  across  the  garden  lawn, 
and    over    the    iron    railings,    and   up    the    park 


LITTLE    STREAMS. 


213 


towards    the    wood^    leaving    the    old    nurse    to 
scream  murder  and  fire  at    the  window. 

Charles  Kingsley. 


Bleared.  —  Dimmed  by  disease, 
or  tears,  or  bad  usage,  like 
going  back  and  forth  from  the 
dark  chimneys  to  the  bright 
sunshine. 

Plunder.  —  To  take  by  force. 

Mirror.  —  A  looking-glass. 


Reflected.  —  Given  back. 

Shrill.  —  Sharp,  high  pitched. 

Doubled.  —  Made  a  turn  by  which 
to  escape. 

Fender. — The  frame  around  the 
fireplace  to  keep  the  coals  from 
rolling  out  upon  the  floor. 


^^^c 


LIII. 


trib-ute 


glanc-ing 


pee-vish. 


■wea-ry 


LITTLE    STREAMS. 

Little  streams  are  light  and  shadow, 
Flowing  through  the  pasture  meadow, 
Flowing  by  the  green  wayside. 
Through  the  forest  dim  and  wide ; 
Through  the  village  small  and  still,  — 
Turning  here  and  there  a  mill,  — 
Bearing  tribute  to  the  river,  — 
Little  streams,  I  love  you  ever. 


214 


FOURTH  READER. 


Summer  music  there  is  flowing  — 
Flowering  plants  in  them  are  growing ; 
Little  birds  come  down  to  drink 
Fearless  of  their  leafy  brink ; 
Noble  trees  beside  them  grow, 
Glooming  them  with  branches  low ; 
And  between,  the  sunshine,  glancing 
In  their  little  waves,  is  dancing. 

Up  in  mountain  hollows  wild. 
Fretting  like  a  peevish  child. 
Through  bright  valleys,  where  all  day 
In  their  waves  the  children  play. 
Running  west,  or  running  east. 
Doing  good  to  man  and  beast  — 
Always  giving,  weary  never, 
Little  streams,  I  love  you  ever. 

Mary  Howitt. 


Tribute.  —  Something  paid  regu- 
larly, either  as  a  due,  or  as  an 
expression  of  friendship  and  de- 
pendence. 

Glancing  and  glooming  are  set 


in    contrast,     like    light    and 
shadow. 
Brink.  —  The  edge  or  border  of  a 
steep  place ;   the  steep  bank  of 


COMPOSITION. 

The  pleasure  to  be  found  in  and  about  a  brook, 
brooks. 


The  uses  of 


THE   ANXIOUS    LEAF.  215 

LIV. 

au-tuinn  liol-i-day  Oc-to-ber  trem-bling 


THE    ANXIOUS    LEAF. 

1.  Once  upon  a  time  a  little  leaf  was  heard  to 
cry  and  sigh,  as  leaves  often  do  when  a  gentle 
wind  is  blowing.  And  the  twig  said,  "What  is 
the  matter,  little  leaf  ?  " 

2.  The  leaf  said,  "The  wind  has  just  told  me 
that  one  day  it  would  pull  me  off,  and  throw  me 
down  upon  the  ground  to  die." 

3.  The  twig  told  it  to  the  branch,  and  the  branch 
told  it  to  the  tree.  And  when  the  tree  heard  it,  it 
rustled  all  over,  and  sent  word  back  to  the  trem- 
bling leaf. 

4.  "  Do  not  be  afraid,"  it  said  ;  "  hold  on  tightly, 
and  you  shall  not  go  off  till  you  want  to !  " 

And  so  the  leaf  stopped  sighing,  and  went  on 
singing  and  rustling.  Every  time  the  tree  shook 
itself,  and  stirred  all  its  leaves,  the  little  leaf 
danced  merrily,  as  if  nothing  could  ever  pull  it 
off.     It  grew  all  the  summer  long  till  October. 

5.  And  when  the  bright  days  of  autumn  came, 
the  leaf  saw  all  the  leaves  around  growing  very 


216 


FOURTH  READER. 


beautiful.  Some  were  yellow,  some  were  brown, 
and  many  were  striped  with  different  colors.  Then 
the  leaf  asked  the  tree  what  this  meant. 

6.  The  tree  said,  "  All  these  leaves  are  getting 
ready  to  fly  away,  and  they  have  put  on  these 
beautiful  colors  because  of  their  joy." 

Then  the  little  leaf  began  to  want  to  go,  and 
grew  very  beautiful  in  thinking  of  it.  And  when 
it  was  gay  in  colors,  it  saw  that  the  branches  of 
the  tree  had  no  colors  in  them.  So  the  leaf  said, 
"  0  branch !  why  are  you  lead-colored  while  we  are 
all  beautiful  and  golden  ?" 

7.  "  We  must  keep  on  our  work  clothes,"  said 
the  tree,  "  for  our  work  is  not  yet  done ;  but  your 
clothes  are  for  holiday,  because  your  tasks  are 
over." 

8.  Just  then  a  little  puff  of  wind  came,  and  the 
leaf  let  go  without  thinking  of  it,  a,nd  the  wind 
took  it  up  and  turned  it  over  and  over  and  whirled 
it  in  the  air. 

Then  it  fell  gently  down  under  the  edge  of 
the  fence,  among  hundreds  of  leaves,  and  has  never 
waked  to  tell  us  what  it  dreamed  about. 


Whirled.  —  Blew  it  round    and 
round,  as  in  a  circle. 


Tasks.  —  Something  given  one  to 
do  or  learn, 


HOW  THE  LEAVES  CAME  DOWN.      217 

LV. 

frol-icked  Tirge  liud-dled  flut-ter-ing 


HOW   THE    LEAVES   CAME    DOWN. 

"  ril  tell  you  how  the  leaves  came  down," 
The  great  tree  to  his  children  said : 

"You're  getting  sleepy,  Yellow  and  Brown. 
Yes,  very  sleepy,  little  Eed." 

"Ah  !  "  begged  each  silly  pouting  leaf 

"  Let  us  a  little  longer  stay ; 
Dear  Father  Tree,  behold  our  grief ; 

'Tis  such  a  very  pleasant  day. 

We  do  not  want  to  go  away." 

So,  just  for  one  more  merry  day 
To  the  great  tree  the  leaflets  clung. 

Frolicked  and  danced,  and  had  their  way, 
Upon  the  autumn  breezes  swung, 
Whispering  all  their  sports  among. 

"  Perhaps  the  great  tree  will  forget. 
And  let  us  stay  until  the  spring. 

If  we  all  beg,  and  coax,  and  fret." 
But  the  great  tree  did  no  such  thing ; 
He  smiled  to  hear  their  whispering. 


218 


FOURTH  READER. 


"Come,  children  all,  to  bed/'  he  cried; 
And  ere  the  leaves  could  urge  their  prayer. 

He  shook  his  head,  and  far  and  wide, 
Fluttering  and  rustling  everywhere, 
Down  sped  the  leaflets  through  the  air. 

I  saw  them ;  on  the  ground  they  lay, 
Golden  and  red,  a  huddled  swarm, 

Waiting  till  one  from  far  away. 

White  bedclothes  heaped  upon  her  arm. 
Should  come  to  wrap  them  safe  and  warm. 

The  great  bare  tree  looked  down  and  smiled. 

"  Good  night,  dear  little  leaves,"  he  said. 
And  from  below  each  sleepy  child 

Eeplied,  "Good  night,"  and  murmured, 

"It  is  so  nice  to  go  to  bed ! " 

Susan  Coolidge. 


A  huddled  swarm.  — A  great  and 
crowded  collection  or  multitude. 

White  bedclothes.  —  What  are 
they? 


Urge.  —  To  press,  to  push,  to  ask 

earnestly. 
Sped.  —  Made  haste. 


ORAIi    COMPOSITION 


Tell  this  story  in  simple  words. 

Thus,  "  The  great  tree  told,"  etc. 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  HOKSE.        219 


LVI. 

peas-ant  av-a-rice  con-so-la-tion  lei-sure 

fi-del-i-ty  re-quired  down-lieart-ed  con-sume 


THE    FOX    AND   THE    HORSE. 

1.  A  peasant  once  had  a  faithful  horse  who  had 
grown  old  and  could  not  serve  his  master  any 
longer;  he  did  not  care  therefore  to  provide 
him  with  food.  So  he  said  to  the  old  horse,  "1 
really  do  not  want  you  any  more,  for  you  are  of 
no  use  to  me ;  but  if  you  can  prove  your  strength 
by  bringing  me  a  lion,  I  will  keep  you  as  long  as 
you  live.  In  the  meantime,  however,  just  walk 
out  of  my  stable,  and  go  and  make  yourself  a 
home  in  the  fields." 

2.  The  horse,  feeling  very  sad,  wai^dered  away 
till  he  came  to  a  wood,  so  that  he  might  shelter 
himself  under  the  trees  in  bad  weather.  Here  a 
fox  met  him,  and  said,  "  Friend,  why  do  you  hang 
your  head  and  look  so  lonely  ?  " 

3.  "  Ah,"  replied  the  horse,  "  avarice  and  fidelity 
cannot  dwell  together  in  one  house.  My  master 
has  forgotten  for  how  many  years  I  have  served 
him  and  borne  him  safely  from  place  to  place; 
and  now  that  I  am  unable  to  plough  any  longer, 


220  FOURTH    READER. 

he  will  not  provide  me  with  food,  and  has  sent  me 
away." 

4.  "  Without  any  consolation  ? "  asked  the  fox. 
^^The  consolation  was    worthless,"  replied    the 

horse.  "  He  told  me  that  if  I  was  strong  enough 
to  bring  him  a  lion,  he  would  take  me  back  and 
keep  me ;  but  he  knows  very  well  that  I  could  not 
possibly  do  that." 

5.  Then  said  the  fox,  "  Don't  be  downhearted ; 
I  can  help  you.  Just  lie  down  here,  stretch  your- 
self out  as  if  you  were  dead,  and  do  not  move." 

The  horse  did  as  the  fox  desired  him,  while  the 
fox  went  to  a  lion,  whose  den  was  not  far  off. 
"Yonder  lies  a  dead  horse,"  said  the  fox  to  the 
lion ;  "  come  with  me  and  I  will  show  you  where 
it  is,  and  you  can  have  a  good  feast." 

6.  The  lion  went  with  the  fox ;  but  when  they 
reached  the  spot,  the  fox  said,  "  You  cannot  make 
a  meal  comfortably  here.  I'll  tell  you  what  I  will 
do :  I  will  tie  the  horse  to  your  tail;  and  then 
you  can  drag  him  to  your  den  and  consume  him  at 
your  leisure." 

7.  The  lion  was  pleased  with  this  advice;  he 
placed  himself  near  the  horse,  and  stood  quite  still 
to  enable  the  fox  to  tie  the  tail  securely.  But,  in 
doing  so,  the  fox  contrived  to  twist  it  round  the 


THE  FOX  AND  THE  HORSE.        221 

lion's  legs  so  tightly  that  with  all  his  strength  he 
could  not  move  them.  When  the  fox  had  accom- 
plished this  feat,  he  struck  the  horse  on  the  shoul- 
der, and  cried,  "  Gee  up,  old  horse  !  gee  up  !  " 

8.  Up  sprang  the  horse,  and  started  off  at  full 
speed,  dragging  the  lion  with  him.  As  they 
dashed  through  the  wood,  the  lion  began  to  roar, 
and  roared  so  loud  that  all  the  birds  flew  away  in 
a  fright.  But  the  horse  let  him  roar,  and  dragged 
him  away  over  field  and  meadow  to  his  master's 
door.  As  soon  as  the  master  saw  what  his  horse 
had  done,  he  said  to  him,  ''  As  you  have  accom- 
plished what  I  required,  you  shall  now  stay  with 
me  and  have  food  and  shelter  as  long  as  you  live." 

J.  &  W.  Gkimm. 


Peasant.  — Countryman. 

Avarice.  —  Greediness. 

Fidelity.  —  Faithfulness. 

Consolation.  —  Comfort ;  any- 
thing to  cheer  one's  spirits. 

Consume.  —  Eat  up,  devour. 

Leisure.  —  Spare  time,  conven- 
ience. 


Yonder.  —  Near  by,  close  at  hand. 

Contrived.  —  Managed,  was  able 
to  arrange. 

Accomplished.  — Performed. 

Feat.  —  An  act  of  skill  or  cun- 
ning. 

To  enable.  —  To  make  possible 
or  easy. 


Use  some  other  word  for  desired ;  for  securely,  required,  worth- 

s. 

STUDY. 

State  or  write  the  facts  of  this  story. 


222  FOUKTH    READER. 


LVII. 

thatched  ren-der-ing  stur-di-ly  pal-ings 

bar-tered  grad-u-al-ly  prof-it-a-ble  ar-ti-cle 


WHAT  THE  GOODMAN    DOES    IS   RIGHT.— Part  I. 

1.  I  have  no  doubt  that  you  have  been  in  the 
country  and  seen  a  very  old  farm-house,  with  a 
thatched  roof,  and  mosses  and  small  plants  grow- 
ing wild  upon  it.  There  is  a  stork's  nest  upon 
the  ridge  of  the  gable,  for  we  cannot  do  without 
the  stork.  The  walls  of  the  house  are  sloping, 
and  the  windows  are  low,  and  only  one  of  the  lat- 
ter is  made  to  open.  The  baking-oven  sticks  out 
of  the  wall  like  a  great  knob.  An  elder-tree 
hangs  over  the  palings ;  and  beneath  its  branches, 
at  the  foot  of  the  paling,  is  a  pool  of  water,  in 
which  a  few  ducks  are  disporting  themselves. 
There  is  a  yard  dog  too,  who  barks  at  all  comers. 
^  2.  Just  such  a  farm-house  as  this  stood  in  a 
country  lane ;  and  in  it  dwelt  an  old  couple,  a 
peasant  and  his  wife.  Small  as  their  possessions 
were,  they  had  one  article  they  could  not  do  with- 
out, and  that  was  a  horse,  which  contrived  to  live 
upon  the  grass  which  it  found  by  the  side  of  the 
high-road. 


WHAT    THE    GOODMAN    DOES    IS    RIGHT.        223 

3.  The  old  peasant  rode  into  the  town  upon 
this  horse,  and  his  neighbors  often  borrowed  it  of 
him,  and  paid  for  the  loan  of  it  by  rendering  some 
service  to  the  old  couple.  After  a  time  they 
thought  it  would  be  as  well  to  sell  the  horse,  or 
exchange  it  for  something  which  might  be  more 
useful  to  them.  But  what  might  this  something 
be? 

4.  "  You'll  know  best,  old  man,"  said  the  wife. 
"It  is  fair-day  to-day;  so  ride  into  the  town  and 
get  rid  of  the  horse  for  money,  or  make  a  good  ex- 
change ;  whichever  you  do  will  be  right  to  me,  so 
ride  to  the  fair." 

5.  And  she  fastened  his  neckerchief  for  him; 
for  she  could  do  that  better  than  he  could,  and  she 
could  also  tie  it  very  prettily  in  a  double  bow. 
She  also  smoothed  his  hat  round  and  round  with 
the  palm  of  her  hand,  and  gave  him  a  kiss.  Then 
he  rode  away  upon  the  horse  that  was  to  be  sold 
or  bartered  for  something  else.  Yes,  the  old  man 
knew  what  he  was  about. 

6.  The  sun  shone  with  great  heat,  and  not  a 
cloud  was  to  be  seen  in  the  sky.  The  road  was 
very  dusty,  for  a  number  of  people  all  going  to  the 
fair,  were  driving,  riding,  or  walking  upon  it. 
There  was  no  shelter  anywhere  from  the  hot  sun- 


224  FOURTH    READER. 

shine.  Among  the  rest  a  man  came  trudging 
along,  and  driving  a  cow  to  the  fair.  The  cow 
was  as  beautiful  a  creature  as  any  cow  could  be. 

7.  "  She  gives  good  milk,  I  am  certain,"  said 
the  peasant  to  himself.  "  That  would  be  a  very 
good  exchange :  the  cow  for  the  horse.  Hello, 
there !  you  with  the  cow,"  he  said,  "  I  tell  you 
what ;  I  daresay  a  horse  is  of  more  value  than  a 
cow ;  but  I  don't  care  for  that,  a  cow  will  be  more 
useful  to  me ;  so,  if  you  like,  we'll  exchange." 
''  To  be  sure  I  will,"  said  the  man. 

8.  Accordingly  the  exchange  was  made ;  and 
as  the  matter  was  settled,  the  peasant  might  have 
turned  back ;  for  he  had  done  the  business  he  had 
come  to  do.  But,  having  made  up  his  mind  to  go 
to  the  fair,  he  determined  to  do  so,  if  only  to  have 
a  look  at  it ;  so  on  he  went  to  the  town  with  his 
cow.  Leading  the  animal  he  strode  on  sturdily ; 
and,  after  a  short  time,  overtook  a  man  who  was 
driving  a  sheep.  It  was  a  good  fat  sheep,  with  a 
fine  fleece  on  its  back. 

9.  "I'd  like  to  have  that  fellow,"  said  the  peas- 
ant. "  There  is  plenty  of  grass  for  him  by  our  pal- 
ings, and  in  winter  we  could  keep  him  in  the  room 
with  us.  Perhaps  it  would  be  more  profitable  to 
have  a  sheep  than  a  cow.     Shall  I  exchange  ?  " 


WHAT    THE    GOODMAN    DOES    IS    RIGHT.        225 

10.  The  man  with  the  sheep  was  quite  ready, 
and  the  bargain  was  quickly  made.  And  then  our 
peasant  continued  his  way  on  the  high-road  with 
his  sheep.  Soon  after  this  he  overtook  another 
man,  who  had  come  into  the  road  from  a  field,  and 
was  carrying  a  large  goose  under  his  arm. 

11.  "What  a  heavy  creature  you  have  there," 
said  the  peasant ;  "  it  has  plenty  of  feathers  and 
plenty  of  fat,  and  would  look  well  tied  to  a  string, 
or  paddling  in  the  water  at  our  place.  That  would 
be  very  useful  to  my  old  woman ;  she  could  make 
all  sorts  of  profit  out  of  it.  How  often  she  has 
said,  '  If,  now,  we  only  had  a  goose ! '  Now  here  is 
an  opportunity,  and,  if  possible,  I  will  get  it  for 
her.  Shall  we  exchange?  I  will  give  you  my 
sheep  for  your  goose,  and  thanks  into  the  bargain." 

12.  The  other  had  not  the  least  objection,  and 
accordingly  the  exchange  was  made,  and  our  peas- 
ant became  possessor  of  the  goose.  By  this  time 
he  had  arrived  very  near  the  town.  The  crowd  on 
the  high-road  had  been  gradually  increasing,  and 
there  was  quite  a  rush  of  men  and  cattle.  The 
cattle  walked  on  the  path  and  by  the  palings,  and 
at  the  turnpike  gate  they  even  walked  into  the  toll- 
keeper's  potato-field,  where  one  fowl  was  strutting 
about  with  a  string  tied  to  its  leg,  for  fear  it  should 


226  FOURTH    READER. 

take  fright  at  the  crowds  and  run  away  and  get 
lost.  The  tail-feathers  of  this  fowl  were  very 
short,  and  it  winked  with  both  its  eyes,  and  looked 
very  cunning  as  it  said,  "  Cluck,  cluck." 

13.  What  were  the  thoughts  of  the  fowl  as  it 
said  this  I  cannot  tell  you ;  but  directly  our  good 
man  saw  it,  he  thought,  "  Why,  that's  the  finest 
hen  I  ever  saw  in  my  life ;  it's  finer  than  our  par- 
son's brood  hen ;  upon  my  word,  I  should  like  to 
have  that  fowl.  Fowls  can  always  pick  up  a  few 
grains  that  lie  about,  and  almost  keep  themselves. 
I  think  it  would  be  a  good  exchange  if  I  could  get 
it  for  my  goose.  Shall  we  exchange?"  he  asked 
the  toll-keeper. 

14.  "  Exchange,"  repeated  the  man ;  "  well,  it 
would  not  be  a  bad  thing." 

And  so  they  made  an  exchange ;  the  toll-keeper 
at  the  gate  kept  the  goose,  and  the  peasant  carried 
off  the  fowl.  Now  he  had  really  done  a  great  deal 
of  business  on  his  way  to  the  fair,  and  he  was  hot 
and  tired.  He  wanted  something  to  eat,  and  a 
glass  of  ale  to  refresh  himself ;  so  he  turned  his 
steps  to  an  inn.  He  was  just  about  to  enter  when 
the  hostler  came  out,  and  they  met  at  the  door. 
The  hostler  was  carrying  a  sack.  "What  have 
you  in  that  sack  ? "  asked  the  peasant. 


WHAT   THE    GOODMAN    DOES    IS    RIGHT.        227 

15.  "  Rotten  apples,"  answered  the  hostler ;  "  a 
whole  sackful  of  them.  They  will  do  to  feed  the 
pigs  with." 

"  Why,  that  will  be  terrible  waste/'  he  replied ; 
"1  should  like  to  take  them  home  to  my  old 
woman.  Last  year  the  old  apple-tree  by  the  grass- 
plot  only  bore  one  apple,  and  we  kept  it  in  the 
cupboard  till  it  was  quite  withered  and  rotten.  It 
was  always  property,  my  old  woman  said ;  and 
here  she  would  see  a  great  deal  of  property,  —  a 
whole  sackful;  I  should  like  to  show  them  to 
her." 

16.  "  What  will  you  give  me  for  the  sackful  ?  " 
said  the  hostler. 

"  What  will  I  give  you  ?  Well,  I  will  give  you 
my  fowl  in  exchange." 

So  he  gave  up  the  fowl,  and  received  the  apples, 
which  he  carried  into  the  inn  parlor.  He  leaned 
the  sack  carefully  against  the  stove,  and  then  went 
to  the  table.  ^ 


In  the  country.  —  The  writer  is 
speaking  of  Denmark. 

Disport.  —  Sport,  play,  amuse. 

Render.  —  Give  back,  do. 

Exchange,  barter.  —  Give  one 
thing  for  another. 

Profitable.  —  Bringing  gain,  use- 
ful. 


Sturdily.  —  Stoutly ;  with  firm, 
dogged  steps. 

Opportunity.  —  Favorable  time 
or  chance. 

Directly.  —  As  soon  as,  immedi- 
ately. 

Gradually.  —  Step  by  step;  by 
degrees. 


228  FOURTH    READER. 

LVIII. 

blos-soms  burst-ing  trem-bled  quiv-er-ing 


THE    TREE. 


The  tree's  early  leaf -buds  were  bursting  their  brown. 
"  Shall  I  take  them  away  ?  "  said  the  frost,  sweep- 
ing down. 

"  No  ;  leave  them  alone 
Till  the  blossoms  have  grown," 
Prayed  the  tree,  while  he  trembled  from  rootlet  to 
crown. 

The  tree  bore  his  blossoms,  and  all  the  birds  sung. 

"  Shall  I  take  them  away  ?  "  said  the  wind  as  he 
swung. 

"  No ;  leave  them  alone 
Till  the  berries  have  grown," 

Said  the  tree,  while  his  leaflets  quivering  hung. 

The  tree  bore  his  fruit  in  the  midsummer  glow. 
Said  the  child,  "  May  I  gather  thy  berries  now  ?" 

"  Yes ;  all  thou  canst  see  ; 

Take  them ;  all  are  for  thee," 
Said  the  tree,  while  he  bent  down  his  laden  boughs 

low.  Bjornstjerne  Bjornson. 


WHAT    THE    GOODMAN    DOES   IS    RIGHT.       229 


LIX. 

•wa-ger  at-ten-tion  biolged  sliriv-elled 

poul-try  de-liglit-ful  guests  neigh.-bors 


WHAT   THE    GOODMAN    DOES    IS    RIGHT.  —  Part  II. 

1.  Now  the  stove  was  hot,  and  the  old  man  had 
not  thought  of  that.  Many  guests  were  present 
—  horse-dealers,  cattle-drovers,  and  two  English- 
men. The  Englishmen  were  so  rich  that  their 
pockets  quite  bulged  out  and  were  ready  to  burst, 
and  they  bet  too,  as  you  shall  hear.  "  Hiss-S'Sy 
hiss-s-s.''  What  could  that  be  by  the  stove  ? 
The  apples  were  beginning  to  roast.  "What  is 
that  ?  "  asked  one. 

2.  "  Why,  do  you  know  —  "  said  our  peasant. 
And  then  he  told  them  the  whole  story  of  the 
horse,  which  he  had  exchanged  for  a  cow,  and 
all  the  rest  of  it,  down  to  the  apples. 

"Well,  your  old  woman  will  give  it  you  well 
when  you  get  home,"  said  one  of  the  English- 
men.    "  Won't  there  be  a  noise  ? " 

3.  "What!  give  me  what?"  said  the  peasant. 
"  Why,  she  will  kiss  me,  and  say,  what  the  good- 
man  does  is  always  right.'' 

"Let  us  lay  a  wager  on  it,"  said  the  English- 


230  FOURTH    READER. 

man.     ^^  We'll  wager  you  a   ton  of   coined  gold, 
a  hundred  pounds  to  the  hundredweight." 

4.  "  No ;  a  bushel  will  be  enough/'  replied  the 
peasant,  "  I  can  only  set  a  bushel  of  apples 
against  it,  and  I'll  throw  myself  and  my  old 
woman  into  the  bargain;  that  will  pile  up  the 
measure,  I  fancy." 

"  Done  !  taken  !  "  and  so  the  bet  was  made. 
Then  the  landlord's  coach  came  to  the  door,  and 
the  two  Englishmen  and  the  peasant  got  in, 
and  away  they  drove,  and  soon  arrived  and 
stopped  at  the  peasant's  hut. 

5.  "Good  evening,  old  woman." 
"  Good  evening,  old  man." 
"I've  made  the  exchange." 

"  Ah,  well,  you  understand  what  you're  about," 
said  the  woman.  Then  she  embraced  him,  and 
paid  no  attention  to  the  strangers,  nor  did  she 
notice  the  sack. 

"I  got  a  cow  in  exchange  for  the  horse." 

6.  "  Thank  Heaven ! "  said  she.  "  Now  we  shall 
have  plenty  of  milk,  and  butter,  and  cheese  on 
the  table.     That  was  a  capital  exchange." 

"Yes,  but  I  changed  the  cow  for  a  sheep." 
"Ah,   better    still!"    cried    the   wife.      "You 
always  think  of  everything ;  we  have  just  enough 


WHAT   THE    GOODMAN   DOES   IS    RIGHT.        231 

pasture  for  a  sheep.  Ewe's  milk  and  cheese, 
woollen  jackets  and  stockings !  The  cow  could 
not  give  all  these,  and  her  hairs  only  fall  oE. 
How  you  think  of  everything ! " 


7.  "  But  I  changed  away  the  sheep  for  a  goose." 
"  Then  we  shall  have  roast   goose  to  eat   this 
year.     You  dear  old  man,  you  are  always  think- 
ing of  something  to  please  me.     This  is  delight- 
ful.    We   can  let   the  goose  walk  about  with   a 


232  FOUETH    READER. 

string  tied  to  her  leg,  so  she  will  be  fatter  still 
before  we  roast  her." 

^^But  I  gave  away  the  goose  for  a  fowl." 

8.  "A  fowl !  Well,  that  was  a  good  exchange," 
replied  the  woman.  "The  fowl  will  lay  eggs 
and  hatch  them,  and  we  shall  have  chickens; 
we  shall  soon  have  a  poultry-yard.  Oh,  this  is 
just  what  I  was  wishing  for." 

"  Yes,  but  I  exchanged  the  fowl  for  a  sack  of 
shrivelled  apples." 

9.  "What!  I  must  really  give  you  a  kiss  for 
that ! "  exclaimed  the  wife.  "  My  dear,  good 
husband,  now  I'll  tell  you  something.  Do  you 
know,  almost  as  soon  as  you  left  this  morning, 
I  began  thinking  of  what  I  could  give  you  nice 
for  supper  this  evening,  and  then  I  thought  of 
fried  eggs  and  bacon  with  sweet  herbs  ;  I  had 
eggs  and  bacon,  but  I  wanted  the  herbs ;  so  I 
went  over  to  our  neighbors  :  I  knew  they  had 
plenty  of  herbs,  but  the  mistress  is  very  mean, 
although  she  can  smile  so  sweetly. 

10.  "  I  begged  her  to  lend  me  a  handful  of  herbs. 
'  Lend ! '  she  exclaimed ;  ^  I  have  nothing  to  lend, 
nothing  at  all  grows  in  our  garden,  not  even  a 
shrivelled  apple;  I  could  not  even  lend  you  a 
shrivelled  apple,  my  dear  woman.'      But   now  I 


WHAT    THE    GOODMAN   DOES    IS    RIGHT.        233 

can  lend  her  ten,  or  a  whole  sackful,  which  I'm 
very  glad  of :  it  makes  me  laugh  to  think  about 
it ;  '*  and  then  she  gave  him  a  hearty  kiss. 

11.  "Well,  I  like  all  this,"  said  both  the  Eng- 
lishmen; "always  going  down  the  hill,  and  yet 
always  merry ;  it's  worth  the  money  to  see  it." 
So  they  paid  a  hundredweight  of  gold  to  the 
peasant,  who,  whatever  he  did,  was  not  scolded 
but  kissed. 

Hans  C.  Andersen. 


Embraced. —  Clasped  in  her  arms. 
Shrivelled.  —  Shrunken,  dried  up, 

withered. 
Ton.-  Twenty  hundredweight. 


Wager.  —  A  bet ;  a  sum  of  money 
to  be  paid  to  one  of  two  parties 
if  something  happens  according 
to  their  prediction. 


A    BEADING    REVIEW. 

1.  Find  on  page  180  these  phrases :  — 

"Which  the  goat  cannot  climb";  "if  you  look  up";  "  if  you 
should  look  up  " ;  and  "  as  you  well  know."  Read  the  stanzas  as 
if  they  were  in  parentheses. 

2.  Page  188.    Read  "  what  will  he  do  "  and  the  answer. 

3.  Page  191.     Begin  "will  you." 

4.  In  The  Pet  Lamb,  express  the  persuading  tone  in  "  Drink, 
pretty  creature  " ;  "  What  ails  thee,"  etc.  (205).  "  It  will  not,  will 
not  rest,"  etc.  (207). 

5.  Read  Tom's  soliloquy  (pp.  208-210),  with  the  description  of 
the  little  girl,  and  then  of  himself. 

6.  Read  paragraph  1,  page  209,  and  the  sayings  of  the  horse 
and  dog.  Read  the  Goodman's  talk  in  buying  the  cow;  the 
sheep;  the  goose;  the  hen;  the  apples ;  and  the  closing  dialogue 
(p.  230). 


234  FOURTH    READER^ 

LX. 

THE    USE   OF    FLOWERS. 

God  might  have  bade  the  earth  bring  forth 

Enough  for  great  and  small. 
The  oak-tree  and  the  cedar-tree 

Without  a  flower  at  all ; 
We  might  have  had  enough,  enough 

For  every  want  of  ours ; 
For  luxury,  medicine,  and  toil, 

And  yet  have  had  no  flowers. 

Then  wherefore,  wherefore  were  they  made^- 

All  dyed  with  rainbow  light. 
All  fashioned  with  supremest  grace, 

Upspringing  day  and  night  ? 
Springing  on  valleys  green  and  low, 

And  on  the  mountains  high, 
And  in  the  silent  wilderness 

Where  no  man  passes  by  ? 

Our  outward  life  requires  them  not ;  — ■ 
Then  wherefore  had  they  birth  ? 

To  minister  delight  to  man. 
To  beautify  the  earth, 


TOM    THE    WATER-BABY. 


235 


To  comfort  man,  to  whisper  hope 

Wherever  his  faith  is  dim ; 
For  who  so  careth  for  the  flowers 

Will  much  more  care  for  Him. 

Mary  Howitt. 


Luxury. —  Something  costly  or 
expensive,  usually  in  food  or 
drink. 

Fashioned.  —  Shaped  or  formed 
in  a  special  way. 


Minister.  —  To  supply  or  give. 
Supremest.  —  Highest ;   greatest. 
Dyed.  —  Colored. 
Requires.  —  Needs. 
Wilderness.  —  A  wild  place. 


y^^c 


cad-dis 

knots 

crys-tal 


shrieked 

na-ture 

de-serve 


LXI. 

tor-ment-ing 

med-dle-some 

mis-cliiev-oiis 


ex-act-ly 

com-pa-ny 

grat-ing 


TOM   THE   WATER-BABY. 

1.  What  a  water-baby  is,  and  how  Tom,  the 
poor  little  chimney-sweep,  came  to  be  one,  I  can- 
not tell  you  here.  You  must  read  the  book  which 
contains  Tom's  whole  history. 

2.  Tom  woke  —  so  of  course  he  must  have  been 
asleep — and  found  himself  a  little  being,  four 
inches  long,  with  a  set  of  gills  about  his  neck, 
which  he  mistook  for  a  lace  frill,  till  he  tried  to 


236  FOURTH    READER. 

pull  them  off,  and  found  he  hurt  himself;  so  he 
made  up  his  mind  they  had  best  be  let  alone.  In 
fact,  the  fairies  had  turned  him  into  a  water- 
baby. 

3.  Tom  was  very  happy.  He  swam  along  the 
pretty  water-ways,  or  climbed  upon  the  rocks.  He 
watched  the  sandpipers  hanging  in  thousands, 
and  the  caddis-flies  building  their  houses  with 
silk  and  glue. 

4.  There  were  water-flowers,  too,  and  Tom  tried 
to  pick  them,  but  they  drew  themselves  in  and 
turned  into  knots  of  jelly ;  and  then  Tom  saw  that 
they  were  all  alive  —  bells,  and  stars,  and  wheels, 
and  flowers,  of  all  beautiful  shapes  and  colors; 
and  all  alive  and  busy,  just  as  Tom  was. 

5.  Tom  soon  learned  to  understand  the  sea- 
animals,  and  talk  to  them  ;  so  that  he  might  have 
had  very  pleasant  company  if  he  had  only  been 
a  good  boy. 

6.  But  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  like  some  other 
little  boys  he  was  fond  of  tormenting  creatures 
for  mere  sport.  Some  say  that  it  is  their  nature, 
and  that  they  cannot  help  it.  But  whether  it  is 
nature  or  not,  little  boys  can  help  it,  and  must 
help  it.  For  if  they  have  naughty,  low,  mischiev- 
ous tricks  in  their  nature,  as  monkeys  have,  that 


TOM   THE    WATER-BABY.  237 

is  no  reason  why  they  should  give  way  to  these 
tricks  like  monkeys,  who  know  no  better.  And 
therefore  they  must  not  torment  dumb  creatures. 
And  if  they  do,  a  certain  old  lady  who  is  coming 
will  surely  give  them  exactly  what  they  deserve. 

7.  Tom  did  not  know  that,  and  he  pecked  the 
poor  water  things  sadly,  so  that  they  were  all 
afraid  of  him  and  got  out  of  his  way ;  and  he  had 
no  one  to  speak  to  or  play  with. 

8.  One  day  he  found  a  caddis  and  wanted  it  to 
peep  out  of  its  house ;  so,  what  must  he  do,  the 
meddlesome  little  fellow,  but  pull  it  open,  to  see 
what  the  poor  lady  was  doing  inside.  So  Tom 
broke  to  pieces  the  door,  which  was  the  prettiest 
little  grating  of  silk,  stuck  all  over  with  shining 
bits  of  crystal ;  and  when  he  looked  in  the  caddis 
poked  out  her  head,  and  it  had  turned  into  just 
the  shape  of  a  bird's.  But  when  Tom  spoke,  she 
could  not  answer,  for  her  mouth  and  face  were 
tied  up  in  a  new  nightcap  of  neat  pink  skin. 

9.  However,  if  she  did  not  answer,  all  the  other 
caddises  did,  for  they  held  up  their  hands  and 
shrieked,  "  Oh,  you  naughty  boy ;  you  are  at  it 
again  !  and  she  had  just  laid  herself  up  for  a  fort- 
night's sleep,  and  then  she  would  have  come  out 
with  such  beautiful  wings,  and  laid  such  lots  of 


238  FOURTH    READER. 

eggs  !     Who  sent  you  here  to  worry  us  out  of  our 
lives  ?  " 

10.  No  one  had  ever  taught  Tom  to  be  good. 
The  water-fairies  were  sorry  to  see  him  unhappy, 
but  they  could  not  help  him.  He  had  to  learn 
for  himself.  I  am  glad  to  say  he  did  begin  to 
learn.  And  then  the  caddises  grew  quite  tame, 
and  told  him  the  strange  story  of  the  way  they 
built  their  houses,  and  changed  their  skins  and 
turned  into  winged  flies,  till  Tom  began  to  long 
to  change  too,  and  to  have  wings  like  them  some 
day.  

The  Caddis  Fly.  —  There  are  three  stages  of  insect  life,  —  the 
larva,  the  pupa,  and  the  imago,  or  perfect  insect.  It  is  in  the  larval 
state  that  the  caddis  fly  lives  in  a  case  formed  of  bits  of  shells  or 
sticks  or  sand  and  open  at  each  end. 

The  Sandpiper  is  a  long-billed  bird  found  on  sandy  shores  in 
great  flocks. 

WORD  STUDY. 

One  of  the  things  to  notice  in  this  story  is  the  very  easy  words 
that  tell  it.  Count  the  monosyllables,  that  is  words  of  one 
syllable,  in  paragraph  10  and  others. 

Next  find  words  of  two  syllables  in  different  paragraphs,  and 
see  if  there  are  any  you  never  saw  or  heard  before. 

Three-syllabled  words  can  generally  be  taken  apart;  that  is, 
stripped  of  prefixes  or  suffixes.  Notice  and  study  those,  too,  as 
you  go  on. 

Example.  —  Beauti;/M?  (beauty) ;  mischiev-ows  (mischief) ;  unr 
happy;  meddle-sowe. 


TOM   AND   THE    LOBSTER.  239 

LXII. 

val-iant  fore-most  up-per-most  lob-ster 


TOM    AND   THE  LOBSTER. 

1.  One  day  Tom  took  a  long  step  toward  being 
good.  He  was  going  about  among  the  rocks  near 
the  shore  when  he  saw  a  round  cage.  In  it  was 
his  old  friend  the  lobster,  looking  very  much 
ashamed. 

"  I  can't  get  out,"  said  the  lobster. 

"Where  did  you  get  in  ?  " 

"  Through  that  round  hole  at  the  top." 

2.  "  Then  why  not  get  out  through  it  ?  " 

"  I  can't.  I  have  jumped  upward,  downward^ 
backward,  and  sideways  at  least  four  thousand 
times,  and  I  always  come  back  here  underneath 
this  hole." 

"  Stop  a  minute,"  said  Tom ;  "  turn  your  tail  up 
toward  me  and  I  will  pull  you  through." 

3.  But  the  lobster  was  clumsy.  He  was  bright 
enough  as  long  as  he  was  in  open  sea,  but  here  he 
was  very  stupid. 

Tom  reached  down  till  he  caught  hold  of  him,  but 
the  clumsy  lobster  pulled  him  in  head  foremost. 

4.  "This  is  a  pretty  business,"  said  Tom ;  but 


240  FOURTH    READER. 

just  then  something  swam  over  the  lobster-pot,  and 
lo,  it  was  the  otter. 

Tom  was  frightened.  He  had  not  seen  the  otter 
since  he  told  the  salmon  how  to  get  out  of  its  way, 
and  he  knew  it  would  be  angry. 

5.  The  otter  squeezed  herself  down  through  the 
hole  in  the  top,  and  looked  to  poor  Tom  all  eyes 
and  teeth. 

But  no  sooner  was  her  head  inside  than  the 
valiant  lobster  caught  her  by  the  nose  and  held 
on  tightly. 

The  three  rolled  over  and  over  in  the  pot,  and  I 
do  not  know  what  would  have  happened  to  Tom 
if  he  had  not  at  last  got  on  the  otter's  back  and 
safe  out  of  the  hole. 

6.  He  was  glad  to  be  safe,  but  he  would  not 
desert  his  friend  the  lobster,  and  the  first  time 
lie  saw  his  tail  uppermost  he  caught  hold  of  it  and 
pulled  with  all  his  might. 

By  this  time  the  otter,  who  cannot  live  long  with- 
out coming  up  to  get  a  fresh  breath,  was  drowned 
:ind  dead,  but  the  lobster  would  not  let  go. 

"Come  along,"  said  Tom,  "or  the  fisherman 
will  catch  you.  Don't  you  see  that  she  is  dead  ?" 
And  so  she  was,  but  the  lobster  would  not  let  go. 

7.  The  fisherman  came  at  last,  and  Tom  saw 


TOM    AND    THE   LOBSTER. 


241 


him  haul  the  lobster  up  the  boat  side.  But  when 
Mr.  Lobster  saw  the  fisherman  he  gave  a  great 
snap  and  came  out  of  the  pot  safe  into  the  sea. 

But  he  left  his  claw  behind  him.  It  never  came 
into  his  stupid  head  to  let  go,  and  Tom  found 
afterward  that  all  the  lobsters  would  have  done 
the  same  thing. 

8.  I  have  told  this  story  of  the  lobster  to  show 
you  that  there  was  something  noble  in  our  little 
Tom. 

It  was  just  beginning  to  wake  in  his  heart,  and 
whether  because  of  this,  I  cannot  tell,  though  I 
have  an  opinion  about  it,  there  now  happened  to 
Tom  a  most  wonderful  thing. 

He  had  not  left  the  lobster  five  minutes  before 
he  came  upon  a  water-baby.  A  real  live  water- 
baby  sitting  upon  the  white  sand.  And  when  it 
saw  Tom  it  looked  up  for  a  moment,  and  then 
cried,  "  Why,  you  are  not  one  of  us  !  You  are  a 
new  baby.  Oh,  how  delightful ! "  It  ran  to  Tom, 
and  Tom  ran  to  it,  and  they  hugged  and  kissed 
each  other,  they  did  not  know  why. 


Valiant.  —Brave,  bold. 
The  sea-otter.  —  An  animal  four 
or  five  feet  long.     Its  food  is 


fish,  and  it  lives  mostly  in  the 
water. 
Desert.  —  Leave,  forsake. 


242  FOURTH    HEADER. 

LXIII. 

mad-re-pores         a-nem-o-nes        ri-ot-ous         tiand-some 


MRS.    BE-DONE-BY-AS-YOU-DID.* 

1.  Still  Tom  would  meddle  with  the  creatures. 
He  tickled  the  madrepores  to  make  them  shut  up, 
frightened  the  crabs  to  make  them  hide  in  the 
sand,  and  put  sand  in  the  anemones'  mouths  to 
make  them  fancy  their  dinner  was  coming. 

2.  The  other  children  warned  him,  and  said, 
"  Take  care  what  you  are  at.  Mrs.  Be-done-by-as- 
you-did  is  coming."  But  Tom  never  heeded 
them,  being  riotous  with  high  spirits  and  good 
luck. 

3.  Mrs.  Be-done-by-as-you-did  came  indeed. 

A  very  tremendous  lady  she  was,  and  when  the 
children  saw  her  they  stood  all  in  a  row,  and 
smoothed  down  their  bathing  dresses,  and  put 
their  hands  behind  them. 

She  looked  at  the  children  one  by  one,  and 
seemed  pleased  with  them,  though  she  did  not 
ask  how  they  were  behaving.  To  each  she  gave 
some  sort  of  nice  thing. 

4.  Little  Tom  watched  till  his  mouth  watered 

*  Be  done  by  as  you  did. 


MES.   BE-DONE-BY-AS-YOU-DID.  243 

and  his  eyes  grew  as  round  as  an  owl's.  For  the 
lady  called  him,  and  held  out  her  fingers  with 
something  in  them,  and  popped  it  into  his  mouth ; 
and  lo !  it  was  a  cold,  hard  pebble. 

"You  are  a  very  cruel  woman,"  said  he,  and 
began  to  cry. 

"And  you  are  a  very  cruel  boy.  Who  puts 
pebbles  into  the  sea-animals'  mouths,  to  make 
them  fancy  they  have  caught  a  good  dinner? 
As  you  did  to  them  so  I  must  do  to  you." 

5.  "  Who  told  you  ?  "  said  Tom. 

"  You  told  me  yourself  this  very  minute."  Tom 
had  not  once  opened  his  lips,  so  he  was  very  much 
taken  back  by  this.  "  Yes,  people  tell  me  exactly 
what  they  have  done,  and  that  without  knowing 
it  themselves.  Now  go  and  be  a  good  boy.  I  will 
put  no  more  pebbles  in  your  mouth  if  you  put 
none  in  other  creatures." 

6.  "  I  did  not  know  there  was  any  harm  in  it," 
said  Tom. 

"  Did  you  not  ?  Then  you  know  now.  If  you 
don't  know  that  fire  burns,  there  is  no  reason  it 
shouldn't  burn  you.  The  lobster  did  not  know 
there  was  harm  in  getting  into  the  lobster-pot  to 
get  a  piece  of  fish,  but  it  was  caught  all  the 
same." 


244  FOURTH    READER. 

"Dear  me/'  thought  Tom,  "she  knows  every- 
thing." 

7.  And  so  she  did  indeed.  "Well,  you  are  a 
little  hard  upon  a  poor  lad/'  said  Tom. 

"  Not  at  all.  I  am  the  best  friend  you  ever  had 
in  your  life.  But  I  will  tell  you ;  I  cannot  help 
punishing  people  when  they  do  wrong;  I  like  it 
no  more  than  they  do.  I  am  often  very  sorry  for 
the  poor  things." 

She  looked  kindly  at  him,  and  such  a  tender, 
quiet,  patient,  hopeful  smile  came  over  her  face 
that  Tom  thought  for  a  moment  that  she  did  not 
look  ugly  at  all. 

8.  Tom  smiled  in  her  face,  she  looked  so  pleas- 
ant, and  the  strange  fairy  smiled,  too,  and  said, 
"  You  thought  me  very  ugly-looking  just  now,  did 
you  not  ?  " 

Tom  hung  down  his  head  and  grew  very  red. 

9.  "And  so  I  am,  and  I  shall  be  till  people  be- 
have as  they  ought  to  do.  Then  I  shall  grow  as 
handsome  as  my  siste'r,  who  is  the  loveliest  fairy 
in  the  world.  Her  name  is  '  Mrs.  Do-as-you-would- 
be-done-by.'  * 

"She  begins  where  I  end,  and  I  begin  where 
she  ends. 

*  Do  as  you  would  be  done  by. 


RED   TOP   AKD   TIMOTHY. 


245 


"  Those  who  will  not  listen  to  her  must  listen 
to  me." 


Madrepores  and  Anemones  are 
tiny  coral-making  animals,  hav- 
ing a  round  mouth  surrounded 
with  little  arms  or  tentacles  for 
taking  food. 


Riotous.  —  Excited,  unruly. 

Ugly.  —  The  opposite  of  beauti- 
ful ;  so,  sometimes,  ill-natured. 

Heeded.  —  Minded;  paid  atten- 
tion to. 


3>*iC 


LXIV. 


em-er-ald 
ep-au-lets 
strut-ting 


or-ches-tra 

fa-mil-iar 

foe-man 


scy-the 

sheaths 

saucy 


cam-paign 

sol-diers 

mor-tal 


RED   TOP   AND   TIMOTHY. 

Red  Top  and  Timothy 

Come  here  in  the  spring, 
Light  spears  out  of  emerald  sheaths 

Everywhere  they  spring ; 
Harmless  little  soldiers, 

On  the  field  they  play, 
Nodding  plumes  and  crossing  blades 

All  the  livelong  day. 


Timothy  and  Red  Top 
Bring  their  music  band, 


246  FOURTH    READER. 

Some  with  scarlet  epaulets, 
Strutting  stiff  and  grand ; 

Some  in  sky-blue  jacket, 
Some  in  vests  of  pink, 

Black  and  white  their  leader  s  coat 
Restless  Bobolink. 

Eed  Top's  airy  feathers 

Tremble  to  his  notes, 
In  themselves  an  orchestra ; 

Then  a  thousand  throats 
Set  the  woods  a-laughing, 

While  the  saucy  thing, 
Anywhere  on  spike  or  spear, 

Sways  himself  to  sing. 

Red  Top  and  Timothy 

Have  a  mortal  foe ; 
There's  a  giant  with  a  scythe 

Comes  and  lays  them  low. 
Shuts  them  in  barn  prisons. 

Spares  not  even  Sweet  Clover ; 
Bobolink  leads  off  his  band 

Now  the  campaign's  over. 

Timothy  and  Red  Top 
Will  return  again. 


MRS.    DO-AS-YOU-WOULD-BE-DONE-BY. 


247 


With  familiar  songs  and  flowers 

Through  the  April  rain. 
Though  their  giant  foeman 

Will  not  let  them  be, 
One  who  swings  a  keener  scythe 

Cuts  down  such  as  he. 

Lucy  Larcom's  Childhood  Songs. 


Emerald. — A  precious  stone  of 
bright  green  color;  here  the 
word  means  bright  green. 

Epaulet.  —  An  ornamental  badge 
worn  on  the  shoulder  by  oflS- 
cers  in  the  army  or  navy. 

Orchestra. — A  band  of  musicians. 
It  means  that  the  song  of  the 


bobolink  sounds  like  many  dif- 
ferent instruments  playing  to- 
gether. 

Familiar  songs  and  flowers  are 
those  which  we  are  accustomed 
to  hear  and  see. 

Campaign.  —  The  time  that  an 
army  keeps  the  field. 


:,'i^c 


pad-dling 


LXV. 
tor-ment  as-sure 


ten-der-est 


MRS.   DO-AS-YOU-WOULD-BE-DONE-BY. 

1.  When  Sunday  morning  came,  Mrs.  Do-as-you- 
would-be-done-by  came  too.  And  all  the  little 
children  began  dancing  and  clapping  their  hands, 
and  Tom  clapped  his  with  all  his  might. 

2.  As  for  the  pretty  lady,  I  cannot  tell  you  the 


248  FOURTH    READER. 

color  of  her  hair  or  of  her  eyes,  nor  could  Tom. 
When  any  one  looks  at  her,  all  they  think  of  is  that 
she  has  the  sweetest,  kindest,  tenderest,  funniest, 
merriest  face  they  ever  saw. 

3.  The  children  all  caught  hold  of  her  and  pulled 
her  till  she  sat  down  upon  a  stone.  They  climbed 
into  her  lap  and  clung  around  her  neck,  and  caught 
hold  of  her  hands.  Those  who  could  get  nowhere 
else  sat  down  on  the  sand  at  her  feet,  and  Tom 
stood  staring  at  them,  for  he  could  not  understand 
it  at  all. 

4.  "And  who  are  you,  my  darling  ?"  she  said. 

"  Oh,  that  is  the  new  baby ! "  they  all  cried, 
"and  he  never  had  a  mother  to  take  care  of 
him." 

5.  "Then  I  will  be  his  mother,  and  he  shall 
have  the  very  best  place ;  so  go  away,  all  of  you, 
this  very  moment." 

And  she  took  up  two  great  armfuls  of  babies,  — 
nine  hundred  under  one  arm  and  thirteen  hun- 
dred under  the  other,  —  and  threw  them  right 
and  left  into  the  water.  They  did  not  mind  it  at 
all,  but  came  paddling  back  like  so  many  tad- 
poles. 

6.  She  took  Tom  in  her  lap,  and  talked  to  him 
tenderly,  such  things  as  he  had  never  heard  be- 


MRS.    DO-AS-YOU-WOULD-BE-DONE-BY.  249 

fore  in  his  life,  till  he  fell  fast  asleep.  When  he 
woke,  she  was  telling  the  children  a  story,  —  a 
story  that  begins  every  Christmas  eve  and  never 
ends  at  all  forever  and  ever;  and  the  children 
listened  quite  seriously,  but  not  sadly  at  all,  for 
she  never  told  them  anything  sad ;  and  Tom 
listened,  too,  and  never  grew  tired  of  listening. 

7.  He  listened  so  long  that  he  fell  asleep,  and 
when  he  awoke  he  was  still  in  her  arms. 

"Don't  go  away,"  said  little  Tom;  "this  is 
so  nice.  I  never  had  any  one  to  cuddle  me  so 
before." 

"Don't  go,"  said  the  children,  "you  haven't 
sung  us  one  song." 

"What  shall  it  be?"  said  the  fairy;  "I  have 
only  time  for  one." 

"The  doll  you  lost!  The  doll  you  lost!"  cried 
all  the  babies  at  once. 

So  the  strange  fairy  sung  the  song :  "  I  once  had 
a  sweet  little  doll,  dears."     Do  you  remember  it  ? 

"Will  you  be  a  good  boy  for  my  sake,"  said 
the  fairy  to  Tom,  when  the  time  came  for  her  to 
go,  "  and  not  torment  the  sea-creatures  till  I  come 
back?" 

8.  "  And  will  you  love  me  and  talk  to  me  ? " 
said  poor  little  Tom. 


250  FOURTH    HEADER. 

"  To  be  sure  I  will.  I  should  like  to  take  you 
with  me,  only  I  must  not ;  "  and  away  she  went. 

9.  And  Tom  really  tried  to  be  a  good  boy.  He 
did  not  trouble  the  sea-beasts  after  that  as  long  as 
he  lived,  and  he  is  quite  alive  yet,  I  assure  you, 
and  you  will  hear  more  of  him. 

Adapted  from  Kingsley's  Water  Babies. 


"Do  as  you  would  be  done  by"  is  called  the  Golden  Rule. 
Here  it  is  in  verse  for  you  to  learn,  — 

Deal  with  another  as  you'd  have 

Another  deal  with  you  ; 

What  you're  unwilling  to  receive^ 

(that  is,  have  done  to  you.) 

Be  sure  you  never  do. 
(that  is,  to  others.) 


3j«<C 


LXVI. 

shel-ter-ing  be-lat-ed  croucli-ing  bruised 


A    NIGHT   WITH    A   WOLF. 

Little  one,  come  to  my  knee ! 

Hark  how  the  rain  is  pouring 
Over  the  roof,  in  the  pitch-black  night, 

And  the  wind  in  the  woods  a-roaring ! 


A   NIGHT   WITH   A   WOLF.  251 

Hush,  my  darling,  and  listen. 

Then  pay  for  the  story  with  kisses : 

Father  was  lost  in  the  pitch-black  night, 
In  just  such  a  storm  as  this  is ! 

High  up  on  the  lonely  mountains, 

Where  the  wild  men  watched  and  waited  ; 

Wolves  in  the  forest,  and  bears  in  the  bush, 
And  I  on  my  path  belated. 

The  rain  and  the  night  together 

Came  down,  and  the  wind  came  after, 

Bending  the  props  of  the  pine-tree  roof. 
And  snapping  many  a  rafter. 

I  crept  along  in  the  darkness. 

Stunned,  and  bruised,  and  blinded  — 

Crept  to  a  fir  with  thick-set  boughs. 
And  a  sheltering  rock  behind  it. 

There,  from  the  blowing  and  raining, 

Crouching,  I  sought  to  hide  me  : 
Something  rustled,  two  green  eyes  shone, 

And  a  wolf  lay  down  beside  me. 

Little  one,  be  not  frightened  : 
I  and  the  wolf  together. 


252  FOURTH    READER. 

Side  by  side,  through  the  long,  long  night, 
Hid  from  the  awful  weather. 

His  wet  fur  pressed  against  me; 

Each  of  us  warmed  the  other ; 
Each  of  us  felt,  in  the  stormy  dark. 

That  beast  and  man  was  brother. 

And  when  the  falling  forest 

No  longer  crashed  in  warning, 
Each  of  us  went  from  our  hiding-place 

Forth  in  the  wild  wet  morning. 

Darling,  kiss  me  in  payment ! 

Hark,  how  the  wind  is  roaring ; 
Father  s  house  is  a  better  place. 

When  the  stormy  rain  is  pouring ! 

Bayard  Taylor 

STUDY. 

Tell  this  story  in  prose,  beginning :  "  One  very  dark  night,  when 
it . . .  just  as  it  does  ...  I  was  lost . . .,"  etc. 

What  is  meant  by  "  beast  and  man  was  brother  "  ?  Tell  some 
way  in  which  they  are  alike,  and  also  some  difference. 

The  author  was  a  great  traveller.  He  has  written  books  giving 
accounts  of  his  travels  in  nearly  every  country  in  the  world. 


BEN   BRIGHTBOOTS.  253 


• 

T.XVII. 

se-date 

of-fend-ed          sud-den-ly 

un-grate-ful 

oc-curred 

e-lect                  de-scrip-tion 

vic-ar-age 

BEN    BRIGHTBOOTS.  — Part  I. 

1.  Three  little  children,  named  Francie,  Alfred, 
and  Alice,  had  a  pet  tabby  cat.  She  was  quite 
small  and  very  playful  when  she  first  came  to  live 
with  them,  and  they  called  her  Kitty,  a  name 
which  suited  her  very  well  at  that  age.  After  a 
while  Kitty  grew  up  out  of  kittenhood,  and  be- 
came a  very  sedate  and  well-behaved  cat. 

2.  When  at  last  she  had  three  little  kittens  of 
her  own  it  did  not  seem  at  all  right  and  proper  to 
call  her  Kitty  any  longer,  so  by  general  consent 
she  was  called  "  Mother."  It  came  to  be  known 
to  the  three  little  cat-keepers  that  grandpapa 
would  very  much  like  to  have  a  kitten,  if  one 
could  be  found  pretty  enough,  and  well-behaved 
enough,  for  the  great  honor  of  going  to  live  with 
him. 

3.  The  choice  lay  between  Mother's  three  chil- 
dren. One  was  a  tabby  like  herself,  another  was 
white,  and  the  third  was  black  with  a  little  white. 
Everybody  was  asked  which  was  the  prettiest,  and 


254  FOURTH    READER. 

everybody  said  the  same.  There  never  was  a 
prettier  kitten  than  the  little  black  fellow  with 
four  white  paws  and  a  little  white  waistcoat. 

4.  He  was  a  sturdy  little  kitten  too,  and  opened 
his  eyes  a  whole  day  before  his  sisters,  and  could 
mew  the  loudest  of  the  three ;  and,  better  still, 
could  purr  the  loudest.  So  it  was  settled  that  he 
was  to  be  grandpapa's  kitten  as  soon  as  he  was 
old  enough  to  be  sent  away  from  Mother.  Next 
came  the  grand  question  of  finding  a  name  for 
him. 

5.  "Let  us  write  and  ask  grandpapa  himself," 
said  Francie.  "  Then  he  will  be  sure  to  like  it, 
and  it  would  be  such  a  pity  if  we  chose  a  name  he 
did  not  like."  So  the  lines  were  ruled,  and  a  let- 
ter was  written  containing  a  full,  true,  and  exact 
description  of  grandpapa's  kitten-elect.  Grand- 
papa answered  by  return  of  post,  for  he  knew  how 
the  post-bag  would  be  watched  for  till  his  answer 
came.  "  Call  him  Ben,"  said  the  letter,  "  and  ask 
auntie  to  tell  you  why.  If  he  must  have  a  sur- 
name, let  him  be  Ben  Brightboots." 

6.  Francie,  who  had  charge  of  the  letter  because 
she  was  the  eldest,  unfolded  it  very  carefully  and 
gave  it  to  auntie  to  read.  When  auntie  had  read 
it  she  said:  "I  will  tell  you  all  about  it.     It  is 


BEN   BRIGHTBOOTS.  '  255 

because  grandpapa  had  a  beautiful  cat  several 
years  ago  which  was  called  Ben,  and  so  he  would 
like  to  have  another  of  the  same  name. 

7.  " '  Ben  the  First '  was  quite  black,  with  very 
large  fierce  eyes,  which  must  have  frightened  all 
the  rats  and  mice  most  terribly.  He  was  a  very 
queer-tempered  creature.  Nothing  ever  seemed  to 
disturb  him ;  he  was  too  proud  and  grave  to  hiss 
or  spit  or  scratch,  but  if  any  one  ofEended  him,  he 
would  get  up  very  slowly,  glare  at  them  with  his 
splendid  great  eyes,  and  walk  solemnly  away.  No 
one  ever  made  friends  with  him. 

8.  "  Once  a  lady  came  who  always  won  the  heart 
of  every  (fat  and  kitten  she  had  to  do  with,  and 
she  tried  her  very  best  to  win  my  lord  Ben.  She 
petted  and  coaxed  him  and  talked  to  him ;  she 
practised  various  ways  of  stroking  his  head  and 
fingering  his  ears  and  cheeks  which  had  never 
been  known  to  fail  with  any  other  cat ;  she  gave 
him  the  nicest  bits  of  meat,  and  brought  saucers 
of  milk  at  times  when  he  had  no  right  to  expect  a 
drop.     It  was  all  in  vain. 

9.  "  He  ate  the  meat  and  lapped  the  milk  in  a 
most  ungrateful  way,  never  arching  his  head  or 
raising  his  tail  by  way  of  saying  thank  you. 
Never  a  purr  could  she  get  from  him  with  all 


256 


FOURTH    READER. 


her  kindness  and  pains,  nothing  but  sulky  silence. 

He  did  not  even  take  the  trouble  to  scratch  her, 

but  always  behaved  as  if  she  were  not  worthy  to 

be   taken  notice  of, 
good  or  bad. 

10.  "He  would 
sometimes  look  up  if 
she  called  him,  but 
looked  away  again 
directly,  as  much  as 
to  say,  '  Oh,  it's  only 
you,  is  it  ?  I  would 
not  have  looked  if  I 
had  known.'  As  for 
coming  when  called, 
it  never  occurred  to 
him  to  do  such  a 
thing.  He  cared  for 
nobody,  and  so  of 
course  nobody  cared 
for  him.  Yet  after 
all  he  was  a  very  lov- 
ing cat  in  his  way. 

He  had  given  so  much  love  to  grandpapa  that  he 

had  none  to  spare  for  any  one  else. 

11.  "  At  last,  one  winter  we  missed  him  suddenly, 


BEN   BRIGHTBOOTS. 


257 


and  felt  sure  something  must  be  wrong,  for  he 
was  too  sober  a  cat  to  have  gone  holiday-making  on 
his  own  account,  when  his  master  was  at  home, 
too.  Day  after  day  went  on,  and  we  could  hear 
nothing  of  him.  One  morning  a  little  boy  came 
to  the  vicarage  and  said,  ^Please,  sir,  your  cat's 
been  killed.  Robinson's  dog  killed  her  in  a  min- 
ute.' This  was  sad  news ;  not  that  we  loved  poor 
Ben  for  his  own  sake,  but  we  cared  for  anything 
that  loved  grandpapa." 


Sedate.  — Grave  and  quiet. 
Exact.  —  Quite  correct. 
Description.  —  An  account. 
Offended  him.  —  Made  him   an- 
gry, displeased  him. 
Glare.  —  To  gaze  or  stare  angrily. 
Solemnly.  —  Gravely. 


Practise.  —  To  do  a  thing  often, 

so  as  to  improve. 
Kitten-elect.  —  Chosen  kitten. 
It  never  occurred  to  him.  —  He 

never  thought  of  it. 
Vicarage.  — The  house  of  a  vicar, 

or  clergyman. 


STUDY.  — Surnames  and  Christian  Names. 

The  cat's  Christian  name  was  Ben ;  his  surname,  Brightboots. 
Tell  the  two  names  each  of  you  bears,  and  whether  you  have  a 
single  Christian  name,  or  more  than  one. 

Both  these  are  called  proper  names.  They  are  always  to  be 
written  with  a  capital  initial.  Boy,  girl,  and  child  are  common 
names  ;  that  is,  names  you  have  in  common  with  many  others. 

Make  lists  of  common  names ;  that  is,  names  of  things,  and  the 
common  names  for  persons  and  places.  Examples :  Tree,  fence^ 
town,  lion,  fly,  fish. 

And  also  lists  of  proper  names.  Examples  :  Frank,  Saratoga, 
Ohio,  Rufus  Roughwig.     See  page  163. 


258  FOURTH    READER. 


LXVIII. 

vic-to-ry  yelp-ing  squeak-y  sur-prised 

ca-tlie-dral        sav-age-ly        re-treat-ing  in-h.ab-i-tant 

clois-ter  mis-cliief  pa-tient-ly  low-er-ing 


BEN    BRIGHTBOOTS.— Part  II. 

1.  "Then  we  had  another  cat,  and  called  him 
Ben,  in  memory  of  the  other.  He  was  black,  too, 
and  very  handsome  indeed,  with  a  splendid  tail. 
But  he  had  a  little  white  at  his  throat  which 
looked  like  a  little  pair  of  bands.  So  we  called 
him  '  Canon  Ben.'  Soon  after  receiving  this  title, 
grandpapa  went  away  from  home  for  a  long  time, 
and  Uncle  Frank  said  he  would  take  Canon  Ben 
home  to  his  rooms  by  the  cathedral,  lest  he  should 
be  ill-used  or  lost  while  we  were  all  away. 

2.  "There  was  one  inhabitant  of  the  cloisters 
who  greatly  disturbed  Ben's  peace  and  comfort, 
and  would  not  let  him  lead  the  quiet  life  which 
he  wished  for.  This  was  a  large  gray  parrot  who 
lived  on  the  other  side  of  the  green  square  round 
which  the  cloisters  ran. 

3.  "  On  fine  days  Polly's  cage  was  hung  among 
the  ivy  in  the  arch  before  her  master's  door.  No 
doubt  Polly  thought  this  plan  a  very  good  one,  for 


BEN   BRIGHTBOOTS.  259 

she  could  see  all  that  went  on,  and  could  make 
remarks  to  every  one  who  came  to  any  door  in  the 
cloisters. 

4.  "And  strangers  were  sometimes  very  much 
surprised  to  hear  a  voice  screaming  to  them  all 
across  the  square,  '  Kub  your  shoes !  Fine  day, 
sir !  Very  well,  thank  you !  Rub  your  shoes  ! ' 
Polly  never  missed  a  chance  of  teasing  Canon  Ben, 
and  he  never  crossed  the  square  without  receiving 
a  greeting  of  some  kind. 

5.  "No  one  was  told  so  often  to  rub  his  shoes 
as  he,  and  he  might  have  got  used  to  rude  speeches 
of  that  kind,  but  Polly  was  always  finding  new 
ways  of  vexing  him.  Sometimes  she  would  mew 
like  two  or  three  cats  at  once,  and  when  he  came 
nearer  to  see  whether  he  had  any  fellow-pussies  in 
distress,  she  would  begin  yelping  like  a  very  little 
puppy.  Sometimes  she  woiild  give  a  soft  whistle 
just  like  Uncle  Frank's,  and  when  he  obeyed  it, 
like  a  good  cat  as  he  was,  and  looked  about  for  his 
master,  she  would  squeal  like  a  pig,  or  say,  '  Mind 
your  business ! ' 

6.  "  Canon  Ben  seemed  to  bear  it  patiently  for 
some  time,  but  I  am  afraid  he  was  planning  re- 
venge in  his  heart.  One  hot  August  afternoon, 
when  everything  was  as  still  as  night,  and  even 


260  FOUKTU    READEK. 

Polly  was  quite  sleepy,  and  had  not  made  a  single 
remark  for  two  hours,  Uncle  Frank  happened  to 
look  out  of  his  little  ivy-arched  window  on  the 
shady  side  of  the  green  square,  and  saw  Canon 
Ben  creeping  very  slowly  close  under  the  wall 
towards  Polly's  cage. 

7.  "He  meant  mischief,  that  was  plain,  or  he 
would  not  have  gone  in  that  sly  way,  crouching 
under  the  ivy,  now  and  then  stretching  up  his 
head  and  then  lowering  it,  but  always  keeping  his 
eyes  fixed  on  Polly,  who  sat  half  asleep  on  her 
perch,  and  facing  the  other  way.  On  he  came  till 
he  was  close  to  the  arch,  which  was  like  a  large 
window  with  no  glass  in  it ;  and  then  he  crouched 
like  a  little  tiger,  for  a  spring  on  the  stone  sill 
just  above  the  place  where  the  cage  hung. 

8.  "  Perhaps  Polly  heard  the  rustle  of  an  ivy- 
leaf,  for  all  at  once  she  turned  round.  In  an  in- 
stant she  shouted,  '  Who  are  you  ? '  so  suddenly 
and  fiercely  that  Ben  stopped,  and  looked  quite 
startled.  '  Who  are  you  ? '  pealed  again  like  a 
very  squeaky  trumpet  through  the  cloisters.  Ben 
was  not  prepared  with  an  answer,  and  still  did  not 
spring.  '  Bow,  wow,  wow  ! '  stormed  Polly,  bark- 
ing savagely  and  loudly  enough  to  wake  all  the 
dogs  in  the  town,  not  to  mention  cats. 


BEN   BRIGHTBOOTS.  261 

9.  "Ben  showed  signs  of  retreating.  Used  as 
he  was  to  Polly's  ways,  he  could  not  quite  stand 
this.  Polly  saw  his  weakness  and  kept  it  up. 
'  Bow,  wow,  wow,  wow,  wow  ! '  There  might  have 
been  a  whole  kennel  of  dogs  behind  her.  Ben 
shook  all  over,  and  quickly  turned  tail  and  fled, 
never  stopping  till  he  was  safe  on  the  high  wall 
over  the  bishop's  garden,  where  he  knew  no  dogs 
could  reach  him. 

10.  "  Polly  was  so  proud  of  her  victory  that  no 
one  had  a  chance  of  a  nap  for  the  rest  of  that 
afternoon,  and  though  no  errand-boys  and  no  vis- 
itors came,  nor  any  more  cats,  and  she  had  it  all 
to  herself,  she  sang,  and  talked,  and  whistled,  and 
barked,  till  the  sun  went  down  behind  the  cloister 
roof,  and  her  arch  was  left  shady  and  cool.  It 
was  a  year  before  grandpapa  was  at  home  again, 
and  long  before  that  time  Canon  Ben  had  become 
so  settled,  that  it  was  thought  a  pity  to  take  him 
away  from  Uncle  Frank. 

11.  "So  grandpapa  has  been  for  a  long  time 
without  any  pussy  to  love  him,  and  I  am  very 
glad  you  are  going  to  send  Ben  Brightboots  to 
him." 

"  How  soon  can  he  go,  auntie  ?  "  asked  Alfred. 
"  He   can't   go  till  somebody  takes  him,"  said 


262 


FOURTH  READER. 


Francie.  "He  wouldn't  be  passenger,  and  he 
wouldn't  be  goods,  so  he  will  have  to  wait  till 
grandpapa  comes  again  to  get  him." 


Bands.  —  The  white  muslin  tie 
worn  in  church  by  a  clergy- 
man. 

Canon,  —  A  clergyman  attached 
to  a  cathedral. 

Cathedral.  — The  principal  church 
of  a  bishopric. 

Cloisters.  —  A  roofed  passage  in- 
side an  open  square  of  buildings 


belonging  to  a  cathedral.    Such 

buildings  are  said  to  be  "  in  the 

cloisters." 
Inhabitant.  —  One  who  lives  in  a 

place. 
Greeting.  —  A   polite   speech   on 

meeting  a  person. 
Crouching.  —  Stooping  down. 
Retreating.  —  Turning  back. 


D>*iC 


•wel-come 


LXIX. 

fur-row  ban-ish  night-in-gale 


GOOD    MORROW. 

Pack  clouds,  away,  and  welcome,  day, 

With  night  we  banish  sorrow ; 
Sweet  air  blow  soft,  mount  larks  aloft, 

To  give  my  Love  good  morrow ! 
Wings  from  the  wind  to  please  her  mind, 

Notes  from  the  lark  I'll  borrow, 
Bird,  prune  thy  wing,  nightingale,  sing. 

To  give  my  Love  good  morrow ; 


GOOD   MORROW.  263 

To  give  my  Love  good  morrow 
Notes  from  them  both  I'll  borrow c 

Wake  from  thy  nest,  Robin  Redbreast, 

Sing,  birds,  in  every  furrow ; 
And  from  each  hill,  let  music  shrill 

Give  my  fair  Love  good  morrow ! 
Blackbird  and  thrush  in  every  bush. 

Stare,  linnet,  and  cock-sparrow ! 
You  pretty  elves,  amongst  yourselves 

Sing  my  fair  Love  good  morrow ; 
To  give  my  Love  good  morrow 
Sing,  birds,  in  every  furrow ! 

T.  Heywood. 


Good  morrow  is  an  old  form  of  I   Banish.  —  To  drive  away, 
salutation  or  greeting.  I   Elves.  —  Fairies. 

Read  in  concert  with  light,  gentle  voices. 

Find  the  words  that  rhyme  in  the  first  lines  of  each  couplet 
(lines  arranged  in  couples  or  twos). 

Pronounce  wind  with  the  vowel  long,  and  thrush  somewhat  like 
bush,  to  carry  out  the  poet's  fancy. 

This  song  was  written  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  ago.  It  is 
worth  committing  to  memory. 

WORD    STUDY. 

Select  the  words  that  command  or  ask.  They  are  forms  of  verbs. 
Banish  and  borrow  are  verbs  expressing  action  but  not  command. 


264  FOURTH    READER. 


LXX. 

hearth,  rug  o-ver-set  cup-board  o-ver-coat 

es-cort  in-ter-fere  up-set-ting  reck-on 


BEN    BRIGHTBOOTS.— Part  Ml. 

1.  Christmas  was  near,  and  Aunt  Fanny  was  go- 
ing home  to  grandpapa.     So  this  would  be  a  good 

escort  for  Ben,  and  the  children 
made  their  minds  up  that  it 
would  be  selfish  to  keep  him  any 
longer,  now  that  he  was  quite 
old  enough  to  leave  Mother. 

2.  When  the  morning  came  for  his  journey,  all 
the  baskets  in  the  house,  big  and  little,  were 
brought  together  to  see  which  would  do  best  for 
a  travelling-carriage.  After  one  had  been  chosen 
just  large  enough  for  Ben  to  lie  down  in,  with  a 
lid  to  it,  some  nice  dry  hay  was  put  into  it,  and 
then  it  was  set  on  the  hearth-rug  wide  open,  and 
Ben  was  sent  for. 

3.  When  he  came,  he  did  exactly  what  they 
hoped  he  would  do.  He  walked  straight  up  to  the 
basket,  and  nearly  overset  it  to  begin  with.  Then 
he  began  to  paw  the  handle,  and  to  play  with  a  bit 
of  hay  which  hung  over  the  side.     Then  he  stood 


BEN    BRIGHTBOOTS.  265 

on  his  hind  legs,  put  his  fore-paws  on  the  edge  and 
looked  in.  Then  he  drew  back,  gave  a  little 
spring,  and  in  he  went. 

4.  Out  again,  with  a  bit  of  hay  in  his  mouth, 
and  then  in  again,  this  time  upsetting  the  basket, 
which  frightened  him  away  for  a  minute,  but  he 
soon  came  back  again.  Francie  and  Alfred  and 
Alice  watched  him  all  the  time,  but  did  not  inter- 
fere with  Kim,  except  to  set  the  basket  up  again. 
He  was  getting  used  to  his  travelling-carriage  so 
nicely,  that  it  was  better  to  let  him  alone. 

6.  "Next  time  he  gets  in,"  said  Francie,  "we 
will  shut  the  lid  down,  for  it  is  nearly  time  for 
auntie  to  start."  After  a  little  more  play,  Ben  got 
into  the  basket  once  more  and  lay  down,  and  then 
Francie  and  Alfred  and  Alice  all  ran  up  and 
stroked  him,  and  put  their  little  faces  down  into 
the  basket  to  give  him  a  good-by  kiss,  and  then 
mamma  said  they  had  really  better  shut  the  lid 
down  at  once,  for  the  carriage  was  just  coming 
round  to  the  door.  A  nice  little  bit  of  meat  was 
given  him  as  a  parting  present,  and  then  the  basket 
was  closed  and  tied  with  a  piece  of  string. 

6.  They  could  still  see  him  through  the  wicker- 
work.  He  was  quite  happy,  and  seemed  to  think 
that  having  the  lid  shut  down  made  his  bed  all  the 


266  FOURTH    READER. 

more  cosey.  Alice  cried  out,  "  Oh,  what  a  good 
contented  puss  he  is !  he  has  begun  to  purr  quite 
loud!  Just  listen,  Francie."  And  he  went  on 
purring  up  to  the  very  last. 

7.  Ben  found  a  great  deal  to  learn  in  his  new 
home,  and  he  was  always  learning  something  in 
his  own  fashion.  Not  a  cupboard  or  a  drawer 
could  be  opened  but  he  must  go  and  see  what  was 
in  it,  and  watch  everything  that  was  done,  till  it 
was  shut  again.  He  was  most  curious  about  the 
washing-up  of  the  tea-things,  sitting  on  the  dresser 
and  taking  note  of  what  was  done  with  every  cup 
and  saucer. 

8.  One  evening  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  had 
never  yet  fully  understood  the  dining-room  lamp. 
So  he  sprang  on  the  table,  and  walked  slowly  up 
to  it,  and  two  or  three  times  round  it.  Then  he 
pawed  the  lower  part  all  round.  Then  he  touched 
the  little  handle  by  which  it  was  wound  up. 

9.  Then  he  tried  the  screw  which  raised  or 
lowered  the  wick.  Next  he  stretched  up  his  neck 
and  took  the  edge  of  the  shade  in  his  mouth.  It 
was  not  good  to  eat,  but  he  tried  it  at  two  or  three 
other  places,  till  he  was  quite  sure  of  the  fact. 

10.  Then  he  put  his  head  under  it,  and  looked 
close  at  the  light,  till  the  pupils  of  bis  eyes  shrank 


BEN   BKIGHTBOOTS. 


267 


up  to  a  mere  little  line  of  black.  Finally  he  put 
his  nose  close  to  the  glass.  But  he  did  not  reckon 
on  the  glass  being  hot,  and  his  poor  little  black 
nose  must  have  suffered  a  good  deal,  for  one  touch 
was  enough!  Down  he  jumped,  and  never  wanted 
to  know  any  more  about  the  lamp. 

11.  One  day  there  had  been  a  great  deal  of  snow, 


and  a  high  wind  had  blown  it  into  deep  drifts. 
Ben  knew  nothing  yet  about  snow.  He  did  not 
very  much  like  it,  still  he  must  go  and  see  for  him- 
self what  all  that  white  stuff  might  be.  He  went 
out  into  the  garden  and  peered  about,  stepping 
softly  along  the  oold  paths. 

12.  Presently,  for  some  reason   best   known  to 
himself,  he  made   a   tremendous   spring  at  what 


268 


FOURTH    READER. 


looked  like  a  firm  white  bank.  It  was  a  drift  of 
fine  loose  snow,  and  in  he  went,  quite  over  his 
head,  so  that  for  a  few  moments  nothing  could  be 
seen  of  him.  He  scrambled  out,  puzzled  and 
frightened,  and  looking  as  if  he  had  been  rolled 
in  a  flour-bin. 

13.  He  shook  off  his  white  overcoat  as  well  as  he 
could,  and  scampered  away  into  the  house  as  fast 
as  possible.  He  had  learned  quite  enough  about 
snowdrifts,  and  did  not  care  to  study  them  any 
more. 


Escort.  —  A  person  who  protects 

another. 
Interfere.  —  To  meddle  with. 
Pupils.  —  The  dark  part  in  the 

centre  of  the  eye. 
Peered  about.  —  Looked  sharply 

round  him. 


Tremendous.  —  Very  great. 
White    overcoat.  —  The    snow 

which  clung  to  him. 
Wickerwork.  — The  plaited  twigs 

of  which  the  basket  was  made. 


NOTE    TO    YOUNG    READERS. 

You  see  how  simple  a  thing  it  seems  to  write  a  pleasant  story, 
and  yet  but  a  few  people  would  have  written  so  pleasant  a  one 
with  these  facts  for  a  guide  —  for  the  story  is  a  true  one.  The 
secret  is  in  the  thoughtful  attention  and  interest  in  each  little 
point  as  it  occurred,  and  the  straightforward  way  of  telling  it 
afterward.  Little  stories  are  being  made  in  your  own  lives  that 
are  well  worth  telling  or  writing.  Notice  that  this  long  story  is 
made  up  of  many  separate  short  ones. 

If  you  were  to  begin  by  telling  short  ones,  trying  to  do  so  in 
such  a  way  as  to  give  pleasure,  you  would  improve  rapidly,  and 
might  soon  write  well. 


BEN   BRIGHTBOOTS.  269 


LXXI. 

thought-ful  in-vit-ed  in-qui-ries  de-ligh.t-ed 

com-plete-ly  se-ri-ous  de-served  kitcti-en 


BEN    BRIGHTBOOTS.  — Part  IV. 

1.  All  the  fun  and  play  came  to  an  end  one  day. 
Grandpapa  was  taken  very  ill,  and  went  up  stairs 
to  bed,  and  the  doctor  came,  and  everything  was 
very  sad  and  gloomy. 

2.  Ben  seemed  to  understand  that  something 
was  wrong,  and  was  perfectly  wretched.  He  ran 
up  and  down  stairs  like  a  wild  thing  -,  when  he  got 
to  the  top  he  did  not  seem  to  know  what  he  had 
come  for,  and  tore  down  again.  Then  he  would 
scamper  up  again,  and  run  to  the  study,  and  sit  on 
the  desk  and  mew.  Then  he  would  come  down 
again,  and  get  into  his  master's  arm-chair  in  the 
dining-room,  and  turn  round  and  round  in  it,  but 
not  lie  down. 

3.  Then  he  went  to  the  stairs  again,  and  sat  first 
on  one  step  and  then  on  another,  in  a  restless  way, 
as  if  no  place  pleased  him.  At  last  he  followed 
grandma  into  grandpapa's  room.  Ah,  she  would 
not  send  him  away  then,  poor  little,  loving  fellow ! 

4.  He  jumped  at  once  on  to  the  bed,  and  went 


270  FOURTH    READER. 

softly  up  to  grandpapa's  hand;  and  licked  it ;  then 
crept  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  bed  and  lay  on 
his  feet,  as  if  he  meant  to  try  and  keep  them 
warm.  After  that  he  lay  there  almost  all  day, 
and  never  seemed  to  care  to  run  about  and  play. 

5.  Early  every  morning  he  came  up  and  sat  and 
mewed  outside  the  door  till  he  was  let  in,  and  then 
as  quick  as  lightning  he  was  on  the  bed,  always 
going  up  to  grandpapa's  head  first,  and  fondling, 
and  purring,  and  making  curious  little  bleating 
noises,  meant  to  be  very  kind  and  thoughtful. 

6.  It  was  his  way  of  saying,  "  Good  morning, 
dear  master,  I  am  so  glad  the  door  is  opened  at 
last.  I  do  hope  you  are  better.  I  wish  I  could 
make  you  well."  Then  he  would  creep  down  to 
keep  grandpapa's  feet  warm. 

7.  After  many  days  and  nights  of  pain,  grand- 
papa began  to  get  better,  and  come  down  stairs. 
Ben  was  delighted  to  see  him  in  his  right  place 
again,  the  arm-chair  by  the  fire,  and  did  everything 
he  could  to  show  it,  purring,  and  arching  his  back, 
and  setting  his  tail  straight  up,  and  rubbing  round 
and  round  grandpapa's  legs,  and  the  legs  of  the 
chair  too. 

8.  Now  who  could  help  loving  such  a  cat  as  Ben 
Brightboots?    Grandpapa  loved  him  more  than 


BEN    BRIGHTBOOTS.  271 

ever,  and  so  did  auntie ;  as  for  grandma,  she  would 
have  let  him  roll  over  her  ribbons  and  eat  up  her 
lace,  if  he  pleased,  he  had  so  completely  won  her 
heart.  The  servants  liked  him,  and  petted  him, 
so  he  was  as  well  off  as  any  cat  in  the  kingdom. 
But  he  deserved  it  all,  if  a  cat  ever  did ! 

9.  One  morning  he  did  not  come  in  to  prayers  as 
usual,  and  breakfast  was  had  without  him,  too. 
"  Foolish  fellow,  not  to  come  for  his  milk  !  "  said 
grandpapa;  "where  can  he  be?"  The  bell  was 
rung,  and  the  servant  was  asked  if  Ben  was  in  the 
kitchen.  No,  she  had  not  seen  him  anyw^here. 
"Very  likely  he  is  in  your  study,"  said  auntie; 
"  I'll  go  and  see." 

10.  But  Ben  was  not  there.  Nor  in  grandpapa's 
bedroom,  nor  in  any  other  room  in  the  house.  It 
might  be  that  he  had  been  invited  to  cold  rat  by 
some  new  friend  of  his  own  kind,  and  would  be 
home  to  dinner.  But  dinner-time  came,  and  no 
Ben;  and  tea-time  came,  and  no  Ben;  and  bed- 
time came,  and  still  no  Ben.  It  was  quite  serious; 
something  must  have  happened,  for  Ben  would  never 
have  stayed  away  all  day  of  his  own  free  will. 

11.  Next  day  inquiries  were  made  among  all  the 
neighbors,  but  no  one  had  seen  or  heard  anything 
of   him.     The  next  day  a  boy  was  set  to  look. 


272 


FOURTH    EEADER. 


He  was  to  go  to  every  house  round  about,  and  ask 
if  any  one  had  seen  a  very  pretty  young  black 
cat  with  four  white  feet.  The  boy  came  back  in 
the  evening  for  the  shilling,  which  was  to  have 
been  two  if  he  had  found  Ben,  with  nothing  to  tell 
except  that  "  Nobody  hadn't  heard  nothing  of  no 
black  cat  with  four  white  feet." 

12.  Day  after  day  went  on,  and  hope  became 
fainter.  At  last  grandpapa  wrote  to  tell  Francie 
and  Alfred  and  Alice  of  his  sad  loss,  his  pretty  Ben 
Brightboots,  whom  they  had  nursed  up  for  him,  and 
sent  to  him,  and  who  was  now  lost,  perhaps  dead. 

13.  It  was  not  a  very  cheerful  breakfast  after 
that  letter  came  out  of  the  post-bag.  The  three 
children  went  to  Mother  as  soon  as  breakfast  was 
over,  and  told  her  all  about  it,  and  stroked  and 
petted  and  pitied  her.  At  all  this  attention, 
Mother  was  much  pleased,  and  purred  as  merrily 
as  if  not  a  word  had  been  said,  and  her  son  had 
been  still  safe  in  grandpapa's  keeping. 


Gloomy. — Dull,  sad. 

Arching  his  back.  —  Raising  it 

into  an  arch. 
Completely.  — Entirely. 


Won    her    heart.  —  Gained    her 

love. 
Inquiries.  —  Questions  asked. 
Deserved.  —  Was  worthy  of. 


Correct  the  statement  of  the  boy  who  was  to  search. 


WINTER   RAIN.  273 

i;xxiL 

WINTER    RAIN. 

Every  valley  drinks, 

Every  dell  and  hollow ; 
Where  the  kind  rain  sinks  and  sinks 

Green  of  Spring  will  follow. 

Yet  a  lapse  of  weeks 

Buds  will  burst  their  edges, 
Strip  their  wool-coats,  glue-coats,  streaks, 

In  the  woods  and  hedges ; 

Weave  a  bower  of  love 

For  birds  to  meet  each  other, 
Weave  a  canopy  above 

Nest  and  egg  and  mother. 

But  for  fattening  rain 

We  should  have  no  flowers, 
Never  a  bud  or  leaf  again 

But  for  soaking  showers ; 

Never  a  mated  bird 

In  the  rocking  tree-tops. 


274 


FOURTH  READER. 


Never  indeed  a  flock  or  herd 
To  graze  upon  the  lea-crops. 

Lambs  so  woolly  white, 

Sheep  the  sun-bright  leas  on, 

They  could  have  no  grass  to  bite 
But  for  rain  in  season. 

We  should  find  no  moss 

In  the  shadiest  places, 
Find  no  waving  meadow  grass 

Pied  with  broad-eyed  daisies. 

But  miles  of  barren  sand, 

With  never  a  son  or  daughter, 

Not  a  lily  on  the  land, 
Or  lily  on  the  water. 

Christina  G.  Rossetti. 


Lapse.  —  Passing  away,  as   time 

passes,  without  our  notice. 
Pied.  —  Spotted. 


Leas.  —  Meadows    or    fields    of 
grass  land. 


STUDY. 


The  use  and  value  of  winter  snow  in  the  parts  of  the  country 
where  it  falls.  Quote  a  verse  from  "  How  the  Leaves  came  Down," 
suggesting  a  use  of  snow.  Tell  what  people  would  miss  if  it  did 
not  fall. 


BEN   BRIGHTBOOTS.  276 


LXXIII. 

re-mem-ber-ing    mis-cliiev-ous    peace-a-ble    mem-o-ries 
gen-e-ral-ly  pos-ses-sion        -waist-coat     fon-dled 


BEN    BRIGHTBOOTS.  — Part  V.  -^ 

1.  I  am  glad  that  this  is  not  the  very  end  of  the^ 
story  of  Ben  Brightboots.     It  is  so  much  nicer  to 
have  a  pleasant  ending  than  a  sad  one ;  and  all  the 
more  so,  because  this  little  story  is  really  true,  and 
not  all  make-up. 

2.  For  some  time,  grandpapa  and  grandma  and 
auntie  watched  and  hoped.  Not  long  after  Ben 
was  lost,  a  great  mewing  was  heard  one  evening. 
It  seemed  to  come  from  the  other  side  of  the  road. 
But  when  the  door  was  opened,  and  auntie  called 
"  Ben,  Ben  !  "  it  suddenly  stopped. 

3.  Next  night  it  was  heard  again,  but  the  same 
thing  happened.  And  then  it  was  found  that  it 
was  only  some  mischievous  boys  mewing  like  a  cat, 
perhaps  because  they  knew  of  the  inquiries  which 
had  been  made.  When  this  false  alarm  was  over, 
there  seemed  to  be  nothing  to  do  but  to  give  up 
hope.     Poor,  dear  Ben ! 

4.  A  whole  year  passed  away,  and  never  a  word 
was  heard  of  him.     Before  it  was  over,  the  ser- 


V 


276  FOUKTH    READER. 

vants  who  knew  him  had  both  gone  away,  and 
new  ones  were  come.  One  day  Mary  came  to 
grandma,  and  said  :  "  If  you  please,  ma'am,  there's 
such  a  pretty  cat  sitting  on  the  drawing-room  win- 
dow-sill. He  was  mewing  there  at  seven  o'clock 
this  morning.  He  came  after  me  into  the  kitchen, 
and  we  gave  him  some  milk,  and  then  he  went 
back  again  and  sat  on  the  window,  and  he's  been 
there  ever  since." 

5.  "I  thought  I  heard  a  cat  mewing,"  said 
grandma.  "  What  is  he  like  ?  "  "  He's  nearly  all 
black,"  answered  Mary ;  "  and  he  has  white  paws, 
and  keeps  lifting  them  up  and  down."  "Bring, 
him  in,  and  let  me  look  at  him,"  said  grandma. 

6.  So  Mary  brought  the  cat,  and  put  him  down 
in  the  hall.  Could  it  possibly  be  Ben?  There 
was  the  black  coat,  and  the  white  waistcoat,  and 
the  four  pretty  white  boots.  Only  this  was  a  full- 
grown  cat,  and  when  Ben  went  away  he  was  not 
nearly  full-grown,  but  of  course  he  would  be  so  by 
this  time,  if  he  were  alive.  So  grandma  called 
grandpapa,  and  he  came  down,  and  auntie  heard 
something  going  on  about  a  cat,  and  came  too. 

7.  As  soon  as  grandpapa  appeared  the  cat  went 
up  to  him,  and  began  rubbing  round  his  legs,  and 
doing  everything  a  cat  could  do  to  show  that  he 


BEN   BKIGHTBOOTS.  277 

was  no  stranger.  They  all  went  into  the  dining- 
room,  and  said,  "  Let  us  see  what  the  cat  will  do." 
He  followed  them  in,  and  went  on  rubbing  round 
grandpapa,  now  and  then  turning  away  to  rub 
against  grandma's  and  auntie's  dresses,  walking 
from  one  to  the  other,  as  if  he  were  quite  at  home, 
and  knew  the  room  and  the  persons  quite  well. 

8.  "It  must  be  Ben,"  said  auntie.  "It  can't  be 
Ben,"  said  grandma.  "I  never  in  all  my  life 
heard  or  read  of  a  cat  remembering  in  this  way 
for  such  a  length  of  time,"  said  grandpapa;  "and 
yet  I  do  believe  it  is  Ben.  See,  he  does  just  as 
Ben  used  to  do." 

9.  He  sat  down  in  the  arm-chair.  Up  jumped 
the  cat  and  sat  on  his  knee,  lifting  up  first  one 
little  paw  and  then  the  other.  "  Look,  look !  " 
said  auntie,  "that  proves  it  must  be  Ben.  That 
is  exactly  how  he  always  lifted  up  his  little  feet, 
and  I  never  s.aw  any  other  cat  do  it  in  just  the 
same  way." 

10.  Then  grandpapa  got  up,  and  went  up  stairs. 
The  cat  followed  him,  and  when  they  reached  the 
top  it  darted  on  before,  and  ran  straight  to  grand- 
papa's room,  passing  all  the  other  doors.  Was  it 
likely  a  strange  cat  would  have  done  that  ?  "  But," 
said  grandma,  "is  it  likely  that  a  cat  could  re- 


278  FOURTH   READER, 

member  everything  for  a  whole  year  ?  "  Certainly 
not,  for  cats  have  not  generally  very  good  memo- 
ries. 

11.  But  it  was  still  less  likely  that  a  strange  cat 
would  be  so  very  loving  to  the  right  person  all  at 
once,  and  know  its  way  about  the  house,  and  do 
every  single  thing  just  as  Ben  used  to  do,  and 
seem  so  very  much  delighted  with  everybody  and 
everything,  besides  having  the  white  boots  and 
v/hite  waistcoat,  which  could  not  have  been  begged, 
borrowed,  or  stolen.  So  at  last  they  all  gave  up 
saying  "It  must  be  Ben,"  and  said  "It  is  Ben." 

12.  Ben  was  so  happy  that  he  hardly  sat  down 
all  that  day,  but  kept  walking  about,  fondling 
every  one  and  expecting  to  be  fondled  in  return. 
"Pretty  Ben  !  "  said  grandma  ;  "  you  want  to  tell 
us  where  you  have  been  all  this  time.  Speak  to 
us,  Ben  !     Were  they  kind  to  you,  Ben  ?  " 

13.  It  was  a  comfort  that  his  ^good  looks  an- 
swered that  question.  Wherever  he  had  been  he 
must  have  been  well  treated,  for  he  was  plump  and 
strong,  and  his  fur  was  beautifully  smooth  and 
glossy.     He  had  not  been  starved  at  any  rate. 

14.  Mary  was  told  that  any  one  who  came  to  in- 
quire after  him  was  to  be  asked  in,  so  that  we 
might  explain  how  it  was.     But  no  one  ever  came. 


FRIQUET   AND   FRIQUETTE.  279 

SO  grandpapa  was  left  in  peaceable  possession  of 
his  cat. 

F.  R.  Havergal  {abridged  and  adapted). 


Glossy.  —  Shining.  I  kept  his  cat  without  being  troubled 

In  peaceable  possession,  i.e.,  he    1  any  more. ' 


^l^ic 


LXXIV. 

op-por-tu-ni-ty    shrewd         as-ton-ish.ed        pre-ten-sions 
priv-i-leg-es         la-belled        par-ti-tioned        ad-van-tage 


FRIQUET    AND    FRIQUETTE.*— Part  I. 

1.  Friquet  loved  his  sister  dearly,  but  he  knew 
no  greater  pleasure  than  that  of  teasing  her.  Fri- 
quette  also  loved  her  brother,  but  she  never  let 
slip  an  opportunity  of  playing  a  trick  on  him. 
This  was  the  cause  of  pouting,  tears,  fits  of  anger, 
and,  I  am  ashamed  to  say,  even  blows  and 
scratches. 

2.  I  must  tell  you  the  cause  of  all  these  disputes. 
Master  Friquet  was  proud  of  being  a  man.  He 
fancied  that,  because  of  this  high  position,  a  little 
girl  had  no  right  to  oppose  him.     Friquette,  on 

*Frefc'a  and  Frilc^t', 


280  FOUKTH    EEADER. 

her  side,  had  heard  it  said  that  gentlemen  should 
always  give  way  to  ladies.  So,  being  a  lady,  she 
claimed  her  privileges.  It  was,  of  course,  difficult 
for  two  such  opposite  pretensions  to  exist  side  by 
side ;  and  the  brother  and  sister,  while  really  loving 
each  other  at  heart,  lived  like  cat  and  dog. 

3.  Friquet  was  a  stout  boy,  with  great  fists,  and 
the  strength  was  on  his  side.  Friquette  was  a 
little  girl,  delicate,  shrewd  and  cunning,  who 
always  had  the  advantage  through  her  wit,  of 
which  she  had  enough  and  to  spare.  I  will  not 
tell  you  all  their  naughty  ways  and  tricks.  Un- 
kindness  between  brother  and  sister  is  something 
so  sad,  that  I  should  take  no  pleasure  in  telling,  or 
you  in  hearing  it. 

4.  You  must  know,  however,  that  one  spring 
morning  when  the  children  were  in  the  garden 
with  their  mamma,  the  thought  struck  Friquette 
to  ask  for  a  bit  of  ground,  that  she  might  make  a 
garden  of  her  own. 

This  being  given  her,  Friquet  insisted  on  having 
one  too,  not  because  he  had  a  great  desire  for  it, 
but  in  order  not  to  have  less  than  his  sister. 

5.  Scarcely  had  the  gardens  been  partitioned  off 
before  he  ran  to  the  gardener's  lodge,  where  some 
light  tools  were  kept  for  the  use  of  his  grandpapa, 


FRIQUET   AND   FEIQUETTE.  281 

who  sometimes  worked  in  the  flower-beds.  A  little 
spade,  a  little  hoe,  a  little  rake,  even  to  a  little 
pointed  dibble,  which  his  grandpapa  used  to  put 
tulips  into  the  earth  —  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, 
he  took  possession  of  the  whole,  and  laying  his 
booty  upon  the  ground,  would  not  allow  Friquette 
to  come  near  it. 

6.  It  was  in  vain  for  Friquette  to  beg ;  and  when 
she  succeeded  in  seizing  one  of  the  tools,  he 
snatched  it  rudely  from  her  hands. 

Their  mamma,  who  had  been  sent  for  to  see  a 
visitor,  had  left  the  garden,  and  the  little  girl  was 
compelled  to  drag  painfully  to  her  garden,  a  great 
spade,  almost  as  heavy  as  herself,  with  which  she 
tried,  as  well  as  she  could,  to  turn  up  the  ground. 
All  the  while  she  was  planning  to  revenge  herself. 
Meanwhile,  Friquet,  fully  provided  with  all  he 
needed,  spaded,  raked,  and  prepared  a  beautiful 
bed,  and  began  already  to  talk  about  planting 
it. 

7,  "I  will  go  for  the  seeds,"  said  Friquette, 
springing  quickly  to  go  to  the  house,  and  leaving 
Friquet  astonished  at  her  obliging  act. 

The  child  always  listened  to  what  was  said  in 
her  presence,  and  remembered  all  that  she  heard. 
Now  one  day  she  heard  her  father  say  that  seeds 


282 


FOURTH    READER. 


exposed  to  too  great  heat  lose  the  power  of  taking 
root,  and  are  of  no  more  use  than  pebbles. 

8.  She  ran  to  the  drawer  where  the  seeds  were 
kept;  took  what  she  wanted,  and  returned  with 
several  packages  neatly  tied  and  labelled,  which  she 
gave  to  Friquet.  She  did  not  tell  him,  that  before 
returning  to  the  garden  she  had  gone  to  the 
kitchen,  which  had  happened  to  be  empty,  and 
had  left  the  packages  for  five  minutes  in  the  oven, 
side  by  side  with  the  meat  that  had  been  roasting 
for  dinner.  They  were  a  little  scorched,  indeed, 
but  he  did  not  observe  it. 

9.  "Thank  you,"  said  Friquet,  who  wished  to 
return  her  politeness.  "Don't  you  want  me  to 
plant  some  in  your  garden  ?" 

"  Oh,  no,  it  is  not  ready  yet,  and  this  spade  tires 
me  too  much.  I  have  had  enough  of  gardening 
for  to-day."  Saying  this,  she  returned  to  the 
house  to  laugh  at  her  ease,  while  Friquet  carefully 
planted  his  seeds,  which  he  was  sure  would  grow 
well,  planted  in  a  garden  so  well  prepared. 


Let  slip  an  opportunity.  —  Al- 
low an  occasion  to  pass. 

Advantage.  —  Benefit;  superior 
place  or  state. 

Pretension^.  — Claims;  assumed 
rights. 


Partitioned.  —  Parted,  as  by  walls 

or  bounds. 
Shrewd.  —  Artful;  quick  to  see  a 

weakness  in  another  and  a  gain 

for  one's  self. 
Astonished. —  Surprised,  amazed. 


MABEL    ON   A   MIDSUMMEK   DAY.  283 

LXXV. 

lone-some  fag-ots  live-long  yes-ter-noon 


MABEL  ON    A    MIDSUMMER    DAY.— Part  I. 

Arise,  my  maiden,  Mabel, 

The  mother  said,  arise. 
For  the  golden  sun  of  midsummer 

Is  shining  in  the  skies. 

Arise,  my  little  maiden, 

For  thou  must  speed  away 
To  wait  upon  thy  grandmother 

This  livelong  summer  day. 

And  thou  must  carry  with  thee 

This  wheaten  cake  so  fine, 
This  new-made  pot  of  butter. 

This  little  flask  of  wine. 

And  tell  the  dear  old  body, 

This  day  I  cannot  come ; 
For  the  good  man  went  out  yesternoon, 

And  he  is  not  come  home. 

And  more  than  this,  poor  Amy, 
Upon  my  knee  doth  lie ; 


284  FOURTH    READER. 

I  fear  me  with  this  fever  pain 
The  little  child  will  die. 

And  thou  canst  help  thy  grandmother ; 

The  table  thou  canst  spread ; 
Canst  feed  the  little  dog  and  bird, 

And  thou  canst  make  her  bed. 

And  thou  canst  fetch  the  water 
From  the  lady-well,  hard  by ; 

And  thou  canst  gather  from  the  wood 
The  fagots  brown  and  dry. 

Canst  go  down  to  the  lonesome  glen 

To  milk  the  mother  ewe ; 
This  is  the  work,  my  Mabel, 

That  thou  wilt  have  to  do. 

But  listen  now,  my  Mabel, 

This  is  Midsummer  day, 
When  all  the  fairy  people 

From  Elf-land  come  away. 

And  when  thou'rt  in  the  lonesome  glen. 
Keep  by  the  running  burn ; 

And  do  not  pluck  the  strawberry  flower. 
Nor  break  the  lady-fern. 


MABEL    ON   A   MIDSUMMER   DAY.  285 

But  think  not  of  the  fairy-folk, 

Lest  mischief  should  befall ; 
Think  only  of  poor  Amy 

And  how  thou  lov'st  us  all. 

Yet  keep  good  heart,  my  Mabel, 

If  thou  the  fairies  see ; 
And  give  them  kindly  answer, 

If  they  should  speak  to  thee. 

And  when  into  the  fir-wood 

Thou  goest  for  fagots  brown, 
Do  not,  like  other  children. 

Go  wandering  up  and  down,  — 

But  fill  thy  little  apron, 

My  child,  with  earnest  speed  ; 
And  that  thou  break  no  living  bough 

Within  the  wood,  take  heed. 

For  they  are  spiteful  brownies, 

Who  in  the  wood  abide ; 
So  be  thou  careful  of  this  thing 

Lest  evil  should  betide. 

But  think  not,  little  Mabel, 
Whilst  thou  art  in  the  wood, 


286 


FOURTH  READER. 


Of  dwarfish  wilful  brownies, 
But  of  the  Father  good.    - 

And  when  thou  goest  to  the  spring 
To  fetch  the  water  thence, 

Do  not  disturb  the  little  stream 
Lest  thou  should  give  offence. 

For  the  Queen  of  all  the  Fairies, 
She  loves  that  water  bright ; 

I've  seen  her  drinking  there  myself, 
On  many  a  summer  night. 

But  she's  a  gracious  lady, 

And  her  thou  need'st  not  fear ; 

Only  disturb  thou  not  the  stream, 
Nor  spill  the  water  clear. 

Now  all  this  will  I  heed.  Mother, 

Will  no  word  disobey. 
And  wait  upon  the  grandmother 

This  livelong  summer  day. 


Fagots.  —  A  bundle  of  sticks  or 

twigs. 
Befall.   I  To  happen,  or  come  to 
Betide.  >     pass. 


Ewe.  —  A  female  sheep. 
Abide.  —  To  live,  or  remain  in 

place. 
Give  offence.  —  Displease. 


FRIQUET   AND    FRIQUETTE.  287 


LXXVI. 

con-fi-dant         tli-wart-ed        cal-cu-la-tion        cul-prit 
re-bel-lious         va-ri-e-ty  cel-e-bra-ted         re-proaclied 


FRIQUET   AND    FRIQUETTE.  —  Part  II. 

1.  Friquette  had  a  beautiful  doll,  the  confidant 
of  all  her  joys  and  sorrows,  a  model  friend  that 
never  thwarted  her,  that  remained  where  she  was 
placed,  and  that  always  listened  to  what  she  said. 
It  is  not  worth  the  trouble  of  playing  a  trick,  if 
you  have  not  some  one  to  whom  to  tell  it.  As 
soon  as  she  reached  the  house,  Friquette  took  her 
doll  in  her  arms,  and  in  order  not  to  be  disturbed, 
carried  her  to  an  upper  chamber  where  the  linen 
was  kept,  and  told  her  the  story  of  the  garden. 

2.  Meanwhile,  Friquet  buried  all  his  precious 
seeds  in  the  ground.  Nothing  remained  for  him 
but  to  wait  for  the  flowers,  and  beginning  to  find 
it  dull  to  be  alone,  he  wanted  his  sister  to  join  him 
in  some  other  play. 

There  was  not  much  variety  in  their  amuse- 
ments. Sometimes  they  played  horse,  but  it  was 
naturally  he  that  held  the  whip.  Sometimes  they 
played  robber,  and  again  it  was  naturally  he  that 
took  the  part  of  the  policeman.     If  they  under- 


288  FOURTH    READER. 

took  a  game  of  hide  and  seek,  it  did  not  last  long, 
for  he  always  insisted  upon  being  the  one  to  hide. 
So  when  she  heard  her  brother  calling  Friquette ! 
Friquette !  all  over  the  house,  she  did  not  stir,  but 
quietly  continued  her  conversation  with  her  be- 
loved doll. 

3.  The  young  gardener  finally  found  his  way  to 
the  linen-room,  and  great  was  his  wrath  to  think 
his  sister  preferred  the  company  of  a  doll  to  the 
honor  of  playing  with  him.  He  sprang  upon  his 
little  rival,  and  ran  with  it  around  the  room,  wav- 
ing it  over  his  head. 

4.  But  this  was  a  subject  on  which  Friquette 
would  bear  no  jesting.  She  was  like  a  lioness 
whose  young  are  attacked ;  she  chased  the  robber 
round  the  room,  trying  to  frighten  him  with  her 
screams,  and  threatening  him  with  her  sharp  nails. 

Friquet,  on  his  side,  was  as  nimble  as  a  monkey. 
He  leaped  upon  a  table  that  stood  against  the 
linen-press,  drew  a  chair  toward  him,  and  in  less 
time  than  it  takes  to  tell  the  story,  stood  on  the 
top  of  the  press,  uttering  a  cry  of  victory,  and 
rubbing  the  doll's  nose  against  the  ceiling. 

5.  Friquette  was  beside  herself,  but  she  did  not 
lose  her  presence  of  mind.  In  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye  she  carried  off  the  chair,  pushed  away  the 


FRIQUET   AND   FRlQtTETTE.  289 

table,  and  behold !  Friquet  was  left  a  prisoner  on 
his  perch,  in  close  company  with  the  ceiling,  and 
unable  to  escape. 

Seeing  him  at  her  mercy,  Friquette  bitterly  re- 
proached him  for  his  conduct,  and,  in  the  warmth 
of  her  discourse,  somehow  let  slip  the  fatal  secret, 
which  reduced  all  his  gardening  hopes  to  nothing- 
ness. 

6.  She  had  at  first  intended  to  keep  this  to  her- 
self, in  order  to  see  him  look  for  flowers  every  day, 
and  carefully  gather  out  the  weeds  that  might  in- 
jure them  ;  but  the  anger  of  little  girls  is  apt  to 
sweep  away  all  calculation,  however  well  laid  it 
may  be. 

Friquet  foamed  with  rage  on  learning  the  dread- 
ful truth,  but  his  enemy  quitted  the  room,  leaving 
him  to  his  fate. 

7.  He  soon  gained  his  freedom,  for  he  set  up  such 
a  hubbub  with  screaming,  and  kicking  the  sides  of 
the  linen-press,  that  his  mamma  ran  to  him  in 
fright,  followed  by  the  good  lady  who  was  vis- 
iting her,  and  who  thought  some  terrible  thing 
must  have  happened. 

They  both  burst  out  laughing  on  seeing  the 
bird  on  his  perch,  but  by  means  of  a  step-ladder 
soon  set  him  at  liberty. 


290  FOURTH    READER. 

"  What  were  you  doing  up  there,  my  poor  Fri- 
quet  ?  "  asked  the  old  lady. 

8.  The  child  tried  to  speak,  but  shame  and  an- 
ger choked  his  voice.  His  mother  took  him  on 
her  lap,  and  tried  to  soothe  him  with  gentle  words ; 
but  he  refused  to  speak,  and  ground  his  teeth 
silently  with  rage. 

"  I  see  that  we  must  bring  Miss  Friquette,''  said 
the  lady,  and  she  set  out  in  search  of  the  culprit. 

9.  This  lady  was  none  other  than  the  celebrated 
fairy,  Blanchette,  so  called  because  her  hair  had 
grown  white  at  a  very  early  age. 

The  fairy  possessed  the  gift  of  being  able  to 
reform  naughty  children.  She  saw  at  a  glance 
all  the  evil,  and  they  knew  not  how  to  resist  her 
eye.  It  must  be  said  also,  that  she  loved  them 
with  all  her  heart,  and  this  gave  her  a  great 
advantage,  for  the  most  rebellious  child  suffers 
himself  to  be  ruled  by  a  firm  will,  when  he  feels 
there  is  love  behind  it.  And  beside,  Blanchette 
was  a  fairy,  which  explains  everything. 

10.  She  soon  appeared,  holding  the  little  girl  by 
the  hand,  and  set  her  face  to  face  with  her  brother, 
whom  she  did  not  approach  without  fear. 

"What  have  you  been  doing?"  asked  the  fairy 
in  a  harsh  voice. 


FRIQUET   AND   FRIQUETTE, 


291 


"  He  took  my  doll  and  spoiled  it." 

"No/'  cried  Friquet,  suddenly  finding  his 
tongue;  "she  roasted  the  seeds  in  the  oven, 
and  then  gave  them  to  me  to  plant,  so  that 
nothing  might   grow  in  my  garden." 

"  Why  did  you  take  all  the  tools,  and  rub  the 
skin  off  my  hand  in  snatching  the  spade  from 
me?" 

11.  And  the  two  glared  at  each  other,  looking 
like  two  cocks  ready  to  fight. 

The  fairy  took  the  little  boy,  and  held  him  in  the 
air  as  high  as  her  arm  could  reach.  Then  she 
raised  the  little  girl  from  the  ground  in  the  same 
manner,  looking  at  them  tenderly,  after  which  she 
placed  them  both  in  their  mamma's  lap,  and  kissed 
her  forehead. 

"Farewell,"  she  said,  "be  of  good  cheer;  you 
will  see  me  again  in  a  year  from  this  time." 


Confidant.  —  One  to  whom  secrets 

are  told. 
Culprit.  —  A    person  accused     of 

crime. 
Thwarted.  —  Opposed,   defeated, 

crossed. 


Beside  herself.  —  Out  of  her  wits, 
or  senses. 

Rebellious.  —  The  opposite  of 
obedient;  in  opposition  to  au- 
thority. 

Calculation.  —  Intention,  plan, 
purpose. 


292  FOURTH   READER. 


LXXVII. 

courte-sy  troub-led  neigh.-bor-ing  a-lert 

re-frain  rais-cliief  stead-i-ly  de-mure 


MABEL   ON    A    MIDSUMMER    DAY.  — Part  II 
Away  tripped  little  Mabel, 

With  the  wheaten  cake  so  fine, 
With  the  new-made  pot  of  butter, 

And  the  little  flask  of  wine. 

And  long  before  the  sun  was  hot, 
And  the  summer  mist  had  cleared, 

Beside  the  good  old  grandmother 
The  willing  child  appeared. 

And  all  her  mother's  message 
She  told  with  right  good  will ; 

How  that  the  father  was  away, 
And  the  little  child  was  ill. 

And  then  she  swept  the  hearth  up  clean. 

And  then  the  table  spread ; 
And  next  she  fed  the  dog  and  bird. 

And  then  she  made  the  bed. 

"  And  go  now,"  said  the  grandmother, 
"  Ten  paces  down  the  dell. 


MABEL    ON   A   MIDSUMMER   DAY.  293 

And  bring  in  water  for  the  day ; 
Thou  know'st  the  lady-well." 

The  first  time  that  good  Mabel  went, 

Nothing  at  all  saw  she, 
Ejicept  a  bird,  a  sky-blue  bird 

That  sat  upon  a  tree. 

The  next  time  that  good  Mabel  went, 

There  sat  a  lady  bright 
Beside  the  well  —  a  lady  small, 

All  clothed  in  green  and  white. 

A  courtesy  low  made  Mabel, 

And  then  she  stopped  to  fill 
Her  pitcher  at  the  sparkling  brook, 

But  no  drop  did  she  spill. 

"Thou  art  a  handy  maiden," 

The  fairy  lady  said ; 
"  Thou  hast  not  spilled  a  drop,  nor  yet 

The  fair  spring  troubled. 

"  And  for  this  thing  which  thou  hast  done, 

Yet  may'st  not  understand, 
I  give  to  thee  a  better  gift 

Than  houses  or  than  land. 


294  FOURTH    READER. 

"  Thou  shalt  do  well  whate'er  thou  dost, 

As  thou  hast  done  this  day, 
Shalt  have  the  will  and  power  to  please, 

And  shalt  be  loved  alway." 

Thus  having  said  she  passed  from  sight, 
And  nought  could  Mabel  see, 

But  the  little  bird,  the  sky-blue  bird, 
Upon  the  leafy  tree. 

"And  now  go,"  said  the  grandmother, 

"  And  fetch  in  fagots  dry. 
All  in  the  neighboring  fir-wood, 

Beneath  the  trees  they  lie." 

Away  went  kind,  good  Mabel 

Into  the  fir-wood  near. 
Where  all  the  ground  was  dry  and  brown, 

And  the  grass  grown  thin  and  sear. 

She  did  not  wander  up  and  down. 

Nor  yet  a  live  branch  pull. 
But  steadily  of  the  fallen  boughs 

She  filled  her  apron  full. 

And  when  the  wild  wood-brownies  " 
Came  sliding  to  her  mind, 


MABEL    ON   A   MIDSUMMER   DAY.  295 

She  drove  them  thence^  as  she  was  told, 
With  home  thoughts,  sweet  and  kind. 

But  all  the  while  the  brownies 

Within  the  fir-wood  still. 
They  watched  her,  how  she  picked  the  wood, 

And  strove  to  do  no  ill. 

"  And  oh,  but  she  is  small  and  neat," 
Said  one  ;  "  'twere  shame  to  spite 

A  creature  so  demure  and  meek, 
A  creature  harmless  quite."  ^ 

"  Look  only,"  said  another, 

"  At  her  little  gown  of  blue ; 
At  her  kerchief  pinned  about  her  head, 

And  at  her  little  shoe  !  " 

"  Oh,  but  she  is  a  comely  child," 

Said  a  third ;  "  and  we  will  lay 
A  good-luck  penny  in  her  path, 

A  boon  for  her  this  day,  — 
Seeing  she  broke  no  living  wood, 

No  live  thing  did  affray  !  " 

With  that  the  smallest  penny. 
Of  the  finest  silver  ore, 


296  FOURTH    READER. 

Upon  the  dry  and  slippery  path, 
Lay  Mabel's  feet  before. 

With  joy  she  picked  the  penny  up, 

The  fairy  penny  good. 
And  with  her  fagots  dry  and  brown, 

Went  wandering  from  the  wood. 

"Now  she  has  that,"  said  the  brownies, 

"  Let  flax  be  ever  so  dear, 
'Twill  buy  her  clothes  of  the  very  best 

Fq^  many  and  many  a  year !  " 

"  And  go  now,"  said  the  grandmother, 

"  Since  falling  is  the  dew. 
Go  down  into  the  lonesome  glen, 

And  milk  the  mother-ewe  !  " 

All  down  into  the  lonsome  glen. 
Through  copses  thick  and  wild. 

Through  moist,  rank  grass,  by  trickling  stream, 
Went  on  the  willing  child. 

And  when  she  came  to  the  lonesome  glen, 

She  kept  beside  the  burn, 
And  neither  plucked  the  strawberry-flower, 

Nor  broke  the  lady-fern. 


MABEL    ON   A   MIDSUMMER   DAY.  297 

And  while  she  milked  the  mother-ewe, 

Within  this  lonesome  glen, 
She  wished  that  little  Amy 

Were  strong  and  well  again. 

And  soon  as  she  had  thought  this  thought, 

She  heard  a  coming  sound, 
As  if  a  thousand  fairy  folk 

Were  gathering  all  around. 

And  then  she  heard  a  little  voice. 

Shrill  as  the  midge's  wing, 
That  spoke  aloud,  "  A  human  child 

Is  here  :  yet  mark  this  thing, 

"  The  lady  fern  is  all  unbroke. 

The  strawberry  flower  unta'en ; 
What  shall  be  done  for  her  who  still 

From  mischief  can  refrain  ?  " 

"  Give  her  a  fairy  cake,"  said  one ; 

"  Grant  her  a  wish,"  said  three ; 
"  The  latest  wish  that  she  hath  wished," 

Said  all,  "  whate'er  it  be." 

Kind  Mabel  heard  the  words  they  spoke, 
And  from  the  lonesome  glen. 


298 


FOURTH  READER. 


Unto  the  good  old  grandmother 
Went  gladly  back  again. 

Thus  happened  it  to  Mabel, 
On  that  midsummer  day, 

And  these  three  fairy  blessings 
She  took  with  her  away. 

'Tis  good  to  make  all  duty  sweet, 

To  be  alert  and  kind. 
'Tis  good,  Hke  little  Mabel, 

To  have  a  willing  mind. 


Mary  Howitt. 


Paces.  —  Steps  in  walking. 

Unta'en.  —  Not  taken. 

Refrain.  —  To  keep  one's  self  back 

from  doing. 
Alert.  —  Active,  lively. 


Demure.  —  Modest,  sober. 
Midge. — A  very  delicate  fly. 
Comely.  —  Fair,  graceful. 
Handy. —  Skilful  with  the  hand. 
Boon.  —  A  gift. 


tai.es  out  of  school. 

What  do  you  think  we  wrote  at  school  to-day,  mamma  ? 

I  can't  think,  unless  you  give  me  some  clew  to  it.  Suppose  you 
tell  me. 

It  was  ways  for  a  boy  or  girl  to  show  courtesy  or  politeness. 
Miss  M.  asked  us  about  them,  and  when  they  had  all  been  talked 
over  we  wrote  sentences.  There  were  some  ways  that  I  never  knew 
before. 

Was  it  politeness  to  playmates  or  to  older  people  ? 

It  was  to  older  people  this  time ;  but  we  are  going  to  have  a 
lesson  on  our  ways  to  each  other. 

Tell  me  now  some  of  the  ways  you  talked  about, 


FRIQUET   AND    FRIQUETTE.  299 


LXXVIII. 

us-u-al  se-ver-i-ty  ex-per-i-ment  phys-i-ol-o-gy 

jus-ti-fy  con-fess-ion       men-tioned  veg-e-ta-ble 

ac-cus-ing      con-sult-ed        self-de-ni-al  ex-plan-a-tion 


FRIQUET   AND    FRIQUETTE.  —  Part  III. 

1.  As  the  fairy  Blanche tte  left  the  room,  she 
turned  toward  the  children,  and  said,  "  Above  all 
things,  I  forbid  you  to  tell  a  word  of  it  to  any 


one." 


Tell  what  ?     You  would  never  guess. 

Friquet  looked  at  himself ;  he  had  on  a  little 
dress  and  an  apron  trimmed  with  ribbons,  and 
golden  curls  were  floating  over  his  shoulders. 

2.  Friquette,  for  her  part,  had  on  a  blouse,  con- 
fined by  a  belt,  and  a  pair  of  trousers ;  and,  on 
putting  her  hand  to  her  head,  she  found,  her 
cropped  hair  covered  with  a  cap. 

A  glance  into  the  mirror  at  the  end  of  the 
room  revealed  the  change.  Friquet  had  become 
the  little  girl,  and  Friquette  the  little  boy.  The 
former  opened  and  closed  his  hands,  which  had 
become  small  and  delicate,  and,  finding  he  had  lost 
his  usual  strength,  he  was  humbled.  The  latter 
felt  her  brain   grown   duller,  and  was   not   less 


300  rOUBTH    READER. 

humbled   at  the   loss  of   her  usual  quickness  of 
thought. 

3.  Seized  with  despair,  they  threw  themselves 
into  each  other's  arms,  embracing  the  image  of 
what  each  had  been,  but  now  was  not ;  while 
the  poor  mother  hoped  for  happier  things,  seeing 
that  the  fairy's  charm  was  already  beginning  to 
take  effect  upon  them.  Without  asking  for  an 
explanation  of  this  happy  change,  she  covered 
them  with  caresses,  which  timidly  they  returned. 

4.  In  the  meantime  their  papa  came  home  to 
dine.  He  was  a  great  scholar,  who  was  consulted 
on  difficult  questions  by  people  for  miles  around. 
He  might  have  been  taken  for  an  ill-tempered 
man,  had  he  not  had  a  heart  of  gold,  which  gave 
his  face  an  expression  of  goodness  to  those  who 
knew  how  to  read  it. 

5.  When  the  good  man  returned  at  evening,  his 
head  tired  with  questions,  the  thought  of  the 
merry  little  faces  at  home  made  his  heart  warm. 
It  again  took  the  lead  of  his  head,  and  he  reached 
the  door  with  a  smiling  face,  eager  to  forget  the 
work  of  the  day.  But  if,  on  entering,  as  so  often 
happened,  he  found  sullen  faces  and  swollen  eyes, 
he  spoke  in  his  gruffest  tones,  and  began  to  ques- 
tion the  children  with  the  utmost  severity. 


FRIQUET    AND   FEIQUETTE.  301 

6.  "  Well/'  he  said,  throwing  himself  in  his 
chair,  on  seeing  that  something  unusual  had  hap- 
pened, "  what  is  the  matter  now  ?  " 

"  Friquet  has  been  naughty,"  said  the  little  hoy, 
"  No,  no  !    Friquette  has  been  bad,"   said  the 
little  girl. 

They  had  forgotten,  at  the  sight  of  their  father, 
that  they  had  changed  places,  and  each  one  has- 
tened to  excuse  the  former  tenant.  This  was  a 
new  thing  for  the  father.  He  was  not  accustomed 
to  such  self-denial. 

7.  "  Well,  well,"  he  said,  "  you  are  good  chil- 
dren to  accuse  yourselves.  Come,  my  darlings, 
tell  me  the  whole  story,"  and  he  took  them  both 
upon  his  knees. 

Friquette,  a  boy,  and  Friquet,  a  girl,  reflected  in 
the  meantime  what  they  should  do.  They  were 
forbidden  to  tell  the  real  truth ;  and,  moreover, 
who  would  have  believed  them  ? 

8.  They  could  not  justify  their  former  selves 
without  accusing  their  present  ones,  and  the 
accusing  cry,  which  had  been  spoken  by  each  at 
sight  of  their  father,  was  so  well  received  as  a  con- 
fession that  they  were  encouraged  to  continue  it. 

Friquet,  who  had  most  quickness  of  thought  since 
he  had  become  the  little  girl,  was  the  first  to  de- 


302  FOURTH    READER. 

cide  what  course  to  take.  He  told  how  the  boy 
had  abused  his  strength  in  the  garden,  and  run 
away  with  the  doll  in  the  linen-room,  but  he  took 
good  care  not  to  dwell  on  the  worst  features.  He 
even  mentioned  some  things  in  excuse. 

9.  It  was  really  touching  for  those  who  did  not 
know  the  secret  of  the  farce,  to  see  the  sister  show 
so  much  caution  in  blaming  the  brother,  and  the 
father,  wonder-struck,  embraced  them  both. 

Then  came  Friquette's  turn.  As  the  little  boy, 
her  tongue  was  less  ready  than  usual,  yet  she  did 
quite  well.  In  her  gentlest  voice,  she  told  the 
story  of  the  seeds,  with  her  eyes  cast  down,  and 
on  looking  to  see  if  her  papa  was  very  angry,  to 
her  surprise,  she  saw  him  smiling  with  delight. 

10.  "  What,  you  little  monkey,  do  you  know 
that  ?  How  did  you  find  it  out  ?  Do  you  hear, 
my  dear  ?  Here  is  a  child  six  years  old,  learning 
vegetable  physiology  all  by  herself." 

"  I  know  nothing  about  vegetable  physiology, 
but  I  know  that,  at  least,  ten  cents'  worth  of  good 
seed  has  been  wasted." 

11.  "  No  matter  ;  we  will  buy  some  more.  And, 
since  you  know  so  much,  will  you  tell  me  how 
many  degrees  of  heat  were  needed  to  make  your 
experiment  succeed  ? " 


FRIQUET    AND    FRIQUETTE.  303 

This,  Friquet  did  not  know.  He  had  gained  all 
his  sister's  wit,  but  not  all  that  was  stored  in  her 
memory. 

^'  See/'  he  said,  '^  you  have  frightened  the  poor 
child.     I  am  sure  she  knows." 

"  Friquette  had  heard  that  it  needed  two  hun- 
dred and  twelve  degrees,"  said  the  little  boy. 

12.  "  Do  you  hear  ? "  said  their  papa ;  "  they 
both  know.  You  are  two  darling  children ;  let 
me  kiss  you." 

Never  was  there  a  happier  father,  and  no  more 
was  said  about  the  quarrels  of  the  day. 

By  degrees,  Friquet  and  Friquette  grew  familiar 
with  their  new  positions.  The  next  morning  their 
parents'  eyes  filled  with  tears  of  joy,  to  see  their 
boy  digging  up  Friquette's  piece  of  ground,  and 
their  little  girl  bending  over  Friquet' s  bed,  care- 
fully planting  new  seeds. 

13.  And  what  was  begun  through  selfishness 
soon  became  so  pleasant  that  they  continued  it 
through  kindness. 

The  boy  employed  his  strength  for  his  sister, 
and  the  girl  her  wit  for  her  brother,  and  each  was 
as  happy  in  the  doing  as  in  the  receiving.  They 
forgot  which  was  Friquet  and  which  "Friquette, 
and  when  the  fairy  Blanchette  came  at  the  end  of 


304 


FOURTH  READER. 


the  year  to  set  things  straight  again,  neither 
seemed  to  care  for  it,  for  they  had  but  one  heart 
between  them. 

14.  The  mother  told  the  good  fairy  what  joy 
they  had  in  their  children,  and  what  a  paradise 
was  their  home. 

"  But  what  was  it,"  she  said,  "  that  you  did 
when  you  raised  them  from  the  ground  ?  " 

"  I  taught  them  to  live  in  each  other's  lives,  and 
place  their  happiness  outside  themselves  in  being 
kind  to  others.     It  is  not  difficult.    Every  one  can 

do  the  same."  Jean  Mace. 

Copyright,  1867,  hy  Harper  &  Brothers. 


Was  consulted.  — ;  His  advice 
was  sought,  or  his  knowledge 
questioned. 

Experiment.  —  Act  performed  to 
discover  or  test  some  truth. 

Paradise.  —  A  blessed  place. 

Explanation.  —  A  description,  or 


statement,  given  to  make  a  thing 

clear. 
Vegetable.  —  Belonging  to  plant- 

Ufe. 
Physiology.  —  The  science  of  life 

in  animals  and  plants. 
Severity.  —  Harshness,  sternness. 


READING    REVIEW.  —  For  Expression. 

Practise  upon  the  following  selected  paragraphs  :  — 
Lesson  LXII.,       paragraphs  1,  2,  3. 


"        LXIIL, 
LXVII., 

4,  5,  6. 

8,  9,  10 

LXXIIL, 

(( 

5-12. 

LXXIV., 

(( 

2,3. 

«        LXXVI., 

u 

10,  11. 

THE    FAIRIES    OF    CALDON   LOW.  305 

LXXIX. 

le-gend  or  leg-end       mil-dew        d-wind-ling        Cal-don 


THE    FAIRIES   OF  CALDON    LOW. 

[a  midsummer  legend.] 

"And  where  have  you  been,  my  Mary, 
And  where  have  you  been  from  me  ?  " — 

"  I  have  been  to  the  top  of  the  Caldon  Low, 
The  midsummer  night  to  see  !  " 

"  And  what  did  you  see,  my  Mary, 
All  up  on  the  Caldon  Low  ?  "  — 

"  I  saw  the  glad  sunshine  come  down. 
And  I  saw  the  merry  winds  blow." 

"  And  what  did  you  hear,  my  Mary, 
All  up  on  the  Caldon  hill  ?"  — 

"  I  heard  the  drops  of  the  water  made. 
And  the  ears  of  the  green  corn  fill." 

"  0 !  tell  me  all,  my  Mary  — 

All,  all  that  ever  you  know ; 
For  you  must  have  seen  the  fairies 

Last  night  on  the  Caldon  Low." 

"  Then  take  me  on  your  knee,  mother ; 
And  listen,  mother  of  mine : 


306  FOURTH    READER. 

A  hundred  fairies  danced  last  night, 
And  the  harpers  they  were  nine ; 

"And  their  harp-strings  rung  so  merrily 
To  their  dancing  feet  so  small ; 

But  oh  !  the  words  of  their  talking 
Were  merrier  far  than  all." 

"  And  what  were  the  words,  my  Mary, 
That  then  you  heard  them  say  ?  "  — 

"  I'll  tell  you  all,  my  mother ; 
But  let  me  have  my  way. 

"  Some  of  them  played  with  the  water, 
And  rolled  it  down  the  hill ; 

'  And  this,'  they  said, '  shall  speedily  turn 
The  poor  old  miller's  mill ; 

" '  For  there  has  been  no  water 
Ever  since  the  first  of  May ; 

And  a  busy  man  will  the  miller  be 
At  dawning  of  the  day. 

"  ^  Oh  !  the  miller,  how  he  will  laugh 
When  he  sees  the  mill-dam  rise ! 

The  jolly  old  miller,  how  he  will  laugh 
Till  the  tears  fill  both  his  eyes ! ' 


THE    FAIKIES    OF    CALDON    LOW.  307 

*^  And  some  they  seized  the  little  winds 

That  sounded  over  the  hill ; 
And  each  put  a  horn  into  his  mouth, 

And  blew  both  loud  and  shrill : 

"  ^  And  there/  they  said,  '  the  merry 
winds  go 

Away  from  every  horn ; 
And  they  shall  clear  the  mildew  dank 

From  the  blind  old  widow's  corn. 

"  '  Oh  !  the  poor  blind  widow, 

Though  she  has  been  blind  so  long, 

She'll  be  blithe  enough  when  the  mil- 
dew's gone 
And  the  corn  stands  tall  and  strong.' 

"And  some  they  brought  the  brown  lint- 
seed. 

And  flung  it  down  from  the  Low  ; 
^  And  this,'  they  said,  '  by  the  sunrise, 

In  the  weaver's  croft  shall  grow. 

"  ^  Oh !  the  poor,  lame  weaver. 

How  will  he  laugh  outright 
When  he  sees  his  dwindling  flax-field 

All  full  of  flowers  by  night ! ' 


308  FOURTH   READER. 

"  And  then  outspoke  a  brownie. 
With  a  long  beard  on  his  chin ; 

^I  have  spun  up  all  the  tow/  said  he, 
^  And  I  want  some  more  to  spin. 

"  ^  I've  spun  a  piece  of  hempen  cloth, 
And  I  want  to  spin  another ; 

A  little  sheet  for  Mary's  bed, 
And  an  apron  for  her  mother.' 

''  With  that  I  could  not  help  but  laugh, 
And  I  laughed  out  loud  and  free  ; 

And  then  on  the  top  of  the  Caldon  Low 
There  was  no  one  left  but  me. 

"  And  all  on  the  top  of  the  Caldon  Low 
The  mists  were  cold  and  gray ; 

And  nothing  I  saw  but  the  mossy  stones, 
That  round  about  me  lay. 

"  But  coming  down  from  the  hill-top, 

I  heard  afar  below 
How  busy  the  jolly  miller  was, 

And  how  the  wheel  did  go. 

"  And  I  peeped  into  the  widow's  field. 
And,  sure  enough,  were  seen 


THE    FAIRIES    OF    CALDON   LOW. 


309 


The  yellow  ears  of  the  mildewed  corn, 
All  standing  stout  and  green. 

"And  down  by  the  weaver's  croft  I  stole. 
To  see  if  the  flax  were  sprung ; 

And  I  met  the  weaver  at  his  gate 
With  the  good  news  on  his  tongue. 

"  Now  this  is  all  I  heard,  mother, 

And  all  that  I  did  see  : 
So  prithee,  make  my  bed,  mother. 

For  Fm  tired  as  I  can  be." 

Mary  Howitt. 


Dank.  —  Wet,  moist. 

Lintseed.  —  The  seed  of  flax. 

Croft.  —  A  fenced  field  used  as  a 
pasture,  or  planted. 

Brownie.  — A  fairy,  who  was  sup- 
posed to  do  useful  work  about 
a  house  sometimes  while  people 
were  sleeping. 


Mildew.  —  A  coating  found  on 
decaying  vegetable  substances, 
and  caused  by  dampness. 

Legend.  —  A  story  containing 
some  marvel,  or  thing  of  great 
interest. 

Dwindling.  —  Growing  less ;  wast- 
ing away. 


FOR    STUDY. 

At  midsummer  we  have  the  longest  day  and  the  shortest  night. 
It  comes  on  the  twenty-first  of  June.  Tell  for  how  long  a  time 
there  had  been  no  rain. 

What  were  the  three  special  things  that  the  fairies  had  done  ? 
Give  their  report  in  your  own  words. 

Tell  also  what  Mary  found  on  coming  down. 


310  FOURTH   READER. 


LXXX. 

hor-i-zon  re-gion  au-ro-ra  bo-re-al-is 

ma-ctiines         fur-nislied  ex-cliange         Es-qui-maux 


THE    FROZEN    ZONE. 

1.  In  the  region  of  the  north  pole  are  countries 
where  winter  lasts  nearly  all  the  year.  The  few 
people  who  live  in  this  frozen  zone  are  scattered 
about  over  a  large  country.  They  do  not  build 
houses.  They  keep  shut  up  the  most  of  the  year. 
They  have  no  fields  of  corn,  no  machines  to  work 
with,  and  no  books  to  read.  No  great  nations  are 
found  in  the  frozen  zone.  It  is  almost  too  cold  to 
live. 

2.  In  the  winter  these  poor  people  cannot  see 
the  sun  for  many  weeks.  This  is  not  on  account 
of  clouds,  but  because  the  sun  does  not  come  above 
the  horizon  —  the  place  where  earth  and  sky  seem 
to  meet.  Can  you  think  of  a  place  where  the 
stars  keep  on  shining  as  if  it  were  night  ? 

How  strange  it  would  be  to  miss  the  sun ! 

3.  They  have  in  the  sky,  however,  a  grander 
sight  than  we  have  ever  seen.  There  are  times 
when  the  heavens  are  full  of  lights  that  dance 
about,  or  form  a  beautiful  arch  overhead.     They 


THE    FKOZEN    ZONE.  311 

are  so  bright  as  almost  to  dazzle  the  eyes.  Some 
of  them  are  red,  some  yellow,  and  some  purple; 
indeed,  there  are  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow. 

4.  It  seems  as  if  they  came  to  cheer  the  poor 
people  who  live  there.  By  the  shining  of  these 
lights  and  of  the  stars,  which  shine  more  brightly 
in  these  cold  countries  than  anywhere  else,  the 
people  can  see  to  move  about,  and  even  to  work. 

The  name  of  these  lights  is  Aurora  Borealis,  or, 
if  they  have  a  wavy  motion,  they  are  called  The 
Merry  Dancers. 

5.  In  one  part  of  the  frozen  zone  are  people 
called  Esquimaux.  They  would  look  to  us  like 
stout  boys  with  old  faces,  for  they  do  not  grow  tall 
like  men  we  know. 

They  dress  themselves  warmly  in  furs  and 
skins,  and  in  winter  make  huts  of  frozen  snow, 
unless  they  can  find  wood  that  has  drifted  to  their 
shores. 

6.  The  snow  hut  is  very  clean  and  white  when 
it  is  new,  and  it  keeps  hard  all  winter.  If  the 
vessel  of  oil,  that  is  used  for  both  a  lamp  and  a 
stove  by  floating  little  lighted  wicks  in  it,  makes 
the  hut  so  warm  that  it  drips  a  little,  the  owner 
has  only  to  take  a  fresh  piece  of  snow  and 
mend  it. 


312 


FOURTH  READER. 


7.  A  cooking-pot  hangs  over  the  lamp,  but  the 
Esquimaux  does  not  always  care  to  have  his  meat 
cooked.     He  likes  it  quite  as  well  raw. 


THE    FROZEN    ZONE. 


313 


When  the  short  summer  comes,  and  the  hut 
begins  to  melt,  he  is  glad  to  exchange  it  for  a 
tent. 

8.  Wherever  man  can  live,  there  some  animal 
makes  his  home.  The  fierce  white  bear  lives  on 
the  ice  of  these  polar  regions,  and  the  seal  is  found 
about  its  shores. 

The  bear  furnishes  the  Esquimaux  with  soft, 
warm  fur,  and  the  skin  of  the  seal  makes  his  coat, 
his  cap,  and  his  shoes. 

9.  Besides  these  there  are  the  great  Esquimaux 
dogs,  which  take  the  place  of  a  horse  to  him. 
For  horses  could  not  live  in  this  land.  There  is 
nothing  for  them  to  eat,  and  there  are  no  roads 
for  them  to  travel  upon.  . 

The  dogs  help  him  in  hunting,  too,  for  they 
like  nothing  better  than  running  down  the  white 
bear.  If  a  driver  wishes  his  dogs  to  go  faster,  he 
cries  "  Nannook ! "  Nannook  is  the  name  given, 
in  that  country,  to  the  fierce  white  bear. 


Zone.  —  A  section  of  the  earth. 
The  zone  here  meant  is  the  most 
northern  part  of  the  earth  — 
around  the  north  pole. 


Aurora  Borealis,  also  called  Nor- 
thern Lights.  —  Aurora  means 
bright  or  golden,  like  the  dawn 
of  day,  and  Borealis  means 
northern. 


314  FOURTH    READERo 

LXXXI. 
o-bliged  mos-qui-toes  suf-fi-cient  liar-nessed 


THE    BUSY    LITTLE    LAPPS. 

1.  There  is  another  tribe  of  busy  little  people 
who  live  in  the  frozen  zone,  and  are  seldom  seen 
elsewhere. 

They  do  not  live  in  huts  as  the  Esquimaux  do. 
They  are  obliged  to  wander  up  and  down  the 
country ;  so  they  pitch  tents,  which  they  can  move 
about  as  they  like. 

2.  They  are  called  Lapps,  which  is  a  short  word 
for  Laplander.  Lapland  is  the  name  of  the  coun- 
try w^here  they  live. 

The  reason  why  the  Lapp  moves  about  so  much 
is  because  of  a  very  useful  animal,  which  is  his 
chief  wealth.  The  animal  is  the  reindeer.  He  is 
a  very  restless  creature,  and  does  not  seem  at  all 
to  mind  the  cold. 

3.  In  summer  the  mosquitoes,  which  are  very 
large  and  fierce  in  that  country,  bite  him,  and 
he  is  glad  to  run  up  the  mountains  to  escape 
them. 

Then  his  master  follows  and  sets  up  his  tent. 

4.  When  winter  comes,  and  the  mosquitoes  go 


THE    BUSY   LITTLE   LAPPS. 


315 


away,  the  Lapp  drives  his  reindeer  down  to  the 
plain,  and  again  sets  up  his  tent. 

5.  You  would  not  think  the  tent  a  very  comfort- 
able   place     to     live. 

The  door  is  so  small 
that  you  can  hardly 
get  in  through  it,  and 
the  smoke  of  the  fire 
goes  out  at  a  hole  in 
the  top  —  but  not  till 
it  has  blackened  all 
the  faces  and  hurt 
the  eyes. 

6.  There  are  neither 
lamps  nor  candles. 
The  people  think  the 
fire-light  is  sufficient. 
They  sleep  and  sit 
upon  skins  spread 
upon  the  floor.  Their 
stove  is  a  circle  of 
stones,  and  they  learn 
the  time  by  looking  at  the  sun.  HoW  many 
things  the  little  Lapp  has  to  do  without! 

7.  But  he  is  happy  and  contented.     If  he  has  a 
herd  of  reindeer,  he  thinks  he  is  a  rich  man. 


316  FOURTH    READER. 

In  winter,  when  the  wild  fowl  have  flown  away, 
and  the  sea  is  too  frozen  to  let  him  catch  fish,  he 
goes  to  his  herd  of  reindeer  and  kills  one  of  them. 

8.  This  is  as  good  to  him  as  beef  or  mutton  is 
to  us.  Every  morning  and  night  some  of  the 
reindeer  are  milked.  The  milk  is  thicker  and 
nicer  than  that  of  the  cow,  and  the  Lapp  wife 
makes  cheese  of  what  they  do  not  need  of  it  to 
drink.  She  does  not  provide  butter  for  her 
family. 

9.  When  the  reindeer  is  killed,  his  warm  skin 
makes  a  coat  or  rug  for  his  master,  or  whatever  gar- 
ment any  of  the  family  may  need,  so  that  the  rein- 
deer may  be  said  to  both  feed  and  clothe  his  owners. 

10.  Besides  this,  he  is  harnessed  to  a  sledge  by 
a  strap  and  guided  by  a  cord  around  his  horns, 
so  that  his  master,  drawn  by  his  faithful  reindeer, 
may  ride  miles  away.  The  reindeer,  like  his  master, 
seems  quite  content  with  his  life.  He  wants  nothing 
to  eat  but  the  moss  that  grows  upon  the  ground. 

11.  In  winter,  when  it  is  so  cold  that  you  could 
not  stand  out  in  it  a  minute  without  freezing,  the 
reindeer  will  go  about  turning  up  the  frozen  snow 
to  find  the  moss.  He  has  no  stable  or  shelter  of 
any  kind,  but  he  will  not  suffer  much,  for  God  has 
fitted  him  for  the  life  he  lives. 


ICELAND   AND    GREENLAND. 


317 


Mosquito.  —  There  are  several  different  species  of  this  little 
insect.  The  larvae  grow  under  water,  and  the  insects  are  most 
common  in  marshy  land.  They  make  a  wound  in  order  to  suck 
blood. 

The  Reindeer  is  known  from  other  deer  by  its  size  and  its 
branching  horns.  It  is  a  strong,  patient,  willing  animal,  like  the 
cow  or  ox,  but  it  travels  much  more  rapidly. 


^JO^CX^ . 

LXXXII. 

moun-tain-ous 

bod-ice                  an-cient 

vol-ca-noes 

ad-van-tage 

in-tel-li-gent        sul-ptiur 

ma-te-ri-als 

quan-ti-ties 

cul-ti-vated         wal-rus 

com-plete 

ICELAND    AND    GREENLAND. 

1.  Iceland,  though  not  so  cold  as  Lapland,  is  a 
very  cold  country  except  in  the  short  summers. 
There  are  valleys  which  are  cultivated,  but  the 
most  of  the  island  is  either  too  mountainous  or 
too  rocky. 

2.  The  most  singular  fact  about  the  country  is 
that  though  there  is  ice  at  the  top  of  the  ground, 
there  is  fire  beneath. 

Very  long  ago  it  was  not  uncommon  for  this 
fire  to  send  out  burning  rock  called  lava  from  an 
opening,  or  crater,  at  the  top  of  the  mountains. 
There  is  but  one  of  these  volcanoes  now,  and  it 
has  been  quiet  for  a  long  time. 


318  FOURTH    READER. 

3.  The  fire,  however,  has  not  died  out.  People 
tell  us  that  if  they  put  their  ears  close  to  the 
ground,  the  hissing  of  steam  and  a  rumbling  sound 
can  be  distinctly  heard.  Fire  and  water  are  meet- 
ing together,  and  when  this  heated  water  finds 
a  place  where  it  can  escape,  it  spouts  up  like  a 
fountain. 

4.  It  is  sometimes  so  hot  that  a  kettle  would 
boil  over  it.  Travellers  always  go  to  see  these 
hot  springs.  Indeed,  many  people  go  to  Iceland 
every  year  to  visit  them.  They  are  called  gey- 
sers, which  is  a  good  name  for  them,  since  it 
means  to  spout  or  rage. 

5.  The  people  take  advantage  of  the  smaller 
hot  springs,  if  the  water  is  pure,  and  wash  their 
clothes  in  them;  but  many  of  them  are  mixed  with 
sulphur,  which  leaves  a  stain  and  smell. 

6.  The  Icelanders  live  mostly  by  the  seaside  in 
order  to  get  their  living  by  catching  fish.  They 
have  wooden  houses  with  bright  painted  doors 
and  green  shutters.  Those  who  are  rich  have 
larger  and  better  houses  with  windows,  but  the 
materials  have  to  be  brought  from  other  coun- 
tries, as  there  are  no  forests  in  Iceland  now,  and 
very  few  shops  where  work  can  be  done. 

7.  An   Iceland   lady  wears   a  scarlet  bodice,  a 


ICELAND  AND  GREENLAND.        319 

blue  cloth  petticoat,  and  a  ruff  of  red  and  blue 
about  her  neck.  She  will  have  silver  chains  in 
her  hair  and  a  curious  high  head-dress  with  a 
bright  handkerchief  at  the  top. 

8.  Garden  vegetables  are  raised  in  the  valleys 
but  no  corn  grows.  Herds  of  sheep  graze  on  the 
hillside,  and  the  women  spend  the  long  winter 
evenings  in  spinning  the  wool  and  weaving  it  for 
their  clothes,  or  in  knitting  gloves  and  stockings. 

9.  Another  source  of  wealth  to  the  Icelander 
is  the  down  from  the  eider  duck.  It  is  of  great 
value  for  warm,  light  quilts.  The  Iceland  woman 
has  only  to  gather  the  down,  for  the  bird  pulls  it 
herself  from  her  own  breast  to  line  her  nest  and 
make  a  bed  for  her  young  ducklings. 

10.  The  nests  are  very  close  together,  and  when 
the  bird  is  away,  the  people  come  and  take  the 
down.  The  bird  comes  back  and  finds  it  gone, 
and  sets  herself  at  work  to  pull  some  more. 

11.  Fortunately  she  has  so  thick  a  plumage  that 
she  does  not  suffer  greatly  from  the  loss,  or  if  she 
does,  her  mate  will  pull  some  of  his.  Yet  I  do 
not  think  the  ducks  like  the  treatment  very  well. 
As  soon  as  the  little  ducks  can  swim,  they  all  go 
away,  and  are  not  seen  again  till  the  next  year. 

12.  There  are  but  few  schools  in  Iceland,  yet  the 


320 


FOURTH    READER. 


people  are  very  intelligent.  In  the  poorest  cot- 
tages the  children  are  taught  to  read ;  and  if  they 
have  fewer  books  than  you,  those  that  they  have 
are  of  the  best  kind,  and  the  people  know  them 
well. 

13.  Very  charming  stories  are  told  to  the  chil- 
dren. They  are  of  things  that  are  said  to  have 
happened  in  the  ancient  times  when  nobles  first 
came  from  Norway  to  settle  the  country.  They 
worshipped  the  gods  that  they  supposed  were  in 
the  sun,  the  wind,  the  storm,  the  volcano,  and  the 
earthquake,  and  told  the  mighty  things  they  did. 
The  people  are  Christians  now,  but  these  stories 
have  in  them  much  that  is  beautiful  and  true  of 
the  great  God  who  is  to  be  seen  in  all  His  works. 

14.  The  stories  of  the  Frozen  Zone  would  not  be 
complete  without  some  notice  of  Greenland. 

The  Greenlander  has  a  round  house  made  of 
great  stones.  It  has  separate  apartments,  and 
several  families  live  in  one  house.  The  houses 
have  windows,  but  very  little  air  is  let  in;  and 
you  creep  into  the  house  through  a  dark,  narrow 
passage.  A  little  wood  is  thrown  on  shore  by 
the  sea,  and  is  saved  with  great  care  for  the  roofs 
of  houses. 

15.  The  lamp  is  used  for  a  stove  as  it  is  among 
the  Esquimaux. 


ICELAND   AND    GREENLAND. 


321 


They  have  no  reindeer  milk,  for  the  reindeer  runs 
wild,  but  they  hunt  it  for  the  sake  of  its  flesh. 


The  animals  on  which  they  most  depend  are  the 
seal,  the  whale,  and  the  walrus. 


322  FOURTH    READER. 

16.  Great  quantities  of  oil  are  sent  to  other 
countries  in  exchange  for  things  that  the  Green- 
lander  is  glad  to  obtain,  and  the  oil  of  these 
animals  is  much  needed. 

The  seal  and  walrus  come  on  shore  and  rest 
upon  the  banks.  They  feel  safer,  however,  in  the 
water  and  do  not  go  far  away  from  it. 

The  whale  or  walrus  fisher  has  a  boat  of  whale- 
bone so  covered  with  the  skin  of  the  seal  as  to  fit 
tightly  about  his  body.  He  has  made  the  boat 
himself,  as  the  Esquimaux  did  his  sledge,  out  of 
whalebone,  and  covered  it  with  skin  from  the  seal. 

If  the  weather  is  ever  so  stormy,  he  does  not 
mind.  If  a  wave  knocks  him  over,  he  can  soon 
right  himself  with  his  paddle. 


Seal.  —  An  animal  living  on  the  shores  of  cold  countries.  Its 
head  and  neck  are  shaped  like  those  of  the  cat  or  dog,  and  it  has 
short  forepaws,  but  the  rest  of  the  body  is  shaped  like  that  of  a 
fish.  It  spends  the  most  of  its  time  in  the  water,  but  does  not 
breathe  like  the  fish. 

Walrus.  —  A  creature  like  the  seal  but  having  two  long  ivory 
tusks  and  living  less  on  shore. 


GOODY   BLAKE   AND    HARRY    GILL.  323 


LXXXIII. 

duf-fel  pot-tage  al-lur-ing  -waist-coats 

smottL-er  liglit-some  en-dur-ing  sliel-tered 


GOODY    BLAKE    AND    HARRY    GILL  — Part  I. 

[A   TRUE    STORY.] 

Oh!  what's  the  matter?  what's  the  matter? 
What  is't  that  ails  young  Harry  Gill, 
That  evermore  his  teeth  they  chatter, 
Chatter,  chatter,  chatter  still  ? 
Of  waistcoats  Harry  has  no  lack. 
Good  duffel  gray,  and  flannel  fine ; 
He  has  a  blanket  on  his  back. 
And  coats  enough  to  smother  nine. 

In  March,  December,  and  in  July, 
'Tis  all  the  same  with  Harry  Gill ; 
The  neighbors  tell,  and  tell  you  truly, 
His  teeth  they  chatter,  chatter  still. 
At  night,  at  morning,  and  at  noon, 
'Tis  all  the  same  with  Harry  Gill ; 
Beneath  the  sun,  beneath  the  moon, 
His  teeth  they  chatter,  chatter  still. 

Young  Harry  was  a  lusty  drover, 
And  who  so  stout  of  limb  as  he  ? 
His  cheeks  were  red  as  ruddy  clover ; 


324  FOURTH    READER. 

His  voice  was  like  the  voice  of  three. 
Old  Goody  Blake  was  old  and  poor ; 
111  fed  she  was  and  thinly  clad ; 
And  any  man  who  passed  her  door 
Might  see  how  poor  a  hut  she  had. 

All  day  she  spun  in  her  poor  dwelling : 
And  then  her  three  hours'  work  at  night, 
Alas  !  'twas  hardly  worth  the  telling, 
It  would  not  pay  for  candle-light. 
Remote  from  sheltered  village  green, 
On  a  hill's  northern  side  she  dwelt, 
Where  from  sea-blasts  the  hawthorns  lean, 
And  hoary  dews  are  slow  to  melt. 

By  the  same  fire  to  boil  their  pottage, 
Two  poor  old  dames,  as  I  have  known, 
Will  often  live  in  one  small  cottage ; 
But  she,  poor  woman  !  housed  alone. 
'Twas  well  enough  when  summer  came, 
The  long,  warm,  lightsome  summer  day, 
Then  at  her  door  the  canty  dame 
Would  sit,  as  any  linnet  gay. 

But  when  the  ice  our  streams  did  fetter. 
Oh,  then  how  her  old  bones  would  shake ! 
You  would  have  said,  if  you  had  met  her, 


GOODY   BLAKE   AND   HARRY   GILL. 


325 


'Twas  a  hard  time  for  Goody  Blake. 
Her  evenings  then  were  dull  and  dead : 
Sad  case  it  was,  as  you  may  think, 
For  very  cold  to  go  to  bed, 
And  then  for  cold  not  sleep  a  wink. 

0  joy  for  her !  whene'er  in  winter 
The  winds  at  night  had  made  a  rout ; 
And  scattered  many  a  lusty  splinter 
And  many  a  rotten  bough  about. 
Yet  never  had  she,  well  or  sick, 
As  every  man  who  knew  her  says, 
A  pile  beforehand,  turf  or  stick, 
Enough  to  warm  her  for  three  days. 

Now,  when  the  frost  was  past  enduring. 
And  made  her  poor  old  bones  to  ache. 
Could  anything  be  more  alluring 
Than  an  old  hedge  to  Goody  Blake  ? 
And  now  and  then,  it  must  be  said. 
When  her  old  bones  were  cold  and  chill, 
She  left  her  fire,  or  left  her  bed. 
To  seek  the  hedge  of  Harry  Gill. 


Remote.  —  Distant;  far. 

Duffel.  —  A  woolen  cloth  with  a 

thick  nap. 
Hoary  dews.  —  Frost. 
Pottage. — A  soup  with  vegetables. 


Canty.  —  Blithe,  good-humored. 

Alluring.  —  Attracting,  tempting. 

Enduring.  —  Bearing.  "  Past  en- 
during," means  more  than  she 
was  able  to  bear. 


326  FOURTH    READER. 


LXXXIV. 

de-tect-ed  fierce-ly  -witti-ered  seize 

ven-geance  case-ment  com-plain-ing  knees 


GOODY    BLAKE    AND    HARRY    GILL  — Part  M. 

Now  Harry  he  had  long  suspected 
This  trespass  of  old  Goody  Blake ; 
And  vowed  that  she  should  be  detected  — 
That  he  on  her  would  vengeance  take ; 
And  oft  from  his  warm  fire  he'd  go, 
And  to  the  fields  his  road  would  take ; 
And  there,  at  night,  in  frost  and  snow, 
He  watched  to  seize  old  Goody  Blake. 

And  once  behind  a  rick  of  barley, 
Thus  looking  out  did  Harry  stand : 
The  moon  was  full  and  shining  clearly, 
And  crisp  with  frost  the  stubble  land. 
—  He  hears  a  noise  —  he's  all  awake  — 
Again  !  —  on  tiptoe  down  the  hill 
He  softly  creeps  —  'tis  Goody  Blake ; 
She's  at  the  hedge  of  Harry  Gill ! 

Right  glad  was  he  when  he  beheld  her ; 
Stick  after  stick  did  Goody  pull : 
He  stood  behind  a  bush  of  elder, 


GOODY    BLAKE   AND    HARKY    GILL.  327 

Till  she  had  fill'd  her  apron  full. 
When  with  her  load  she  turned  about, 
The  by-way  back  again  to  take ; 
He  started  forward  with  a  shout, 
And  sprang  upon  poor  Goody  Blake. 

And  fiercely  by  the  arm  he  took  her. 
And  by  the  arm  he  held  her  fast, 
And  fiercely  by  the  arm  he  shook  her, 
And  cried,  "  I've  caught  you  then  at  last ! " 
Then  Goody,  who  had  nothing  said, 
Her  bundle  from  her  lap  let  fall. 
And  kneeling  on  the  sticks  she  prayed 
To  God  that  is  the  judge  of  all. 

She  prayed,  her  withered  hand  uprearing, 
While  Harry  held  her  by  the  arm  — 
"  God,  who  art  never  out  of  hearing, 
0  may  he  never  more  be  warm  I  " 
The  cold,  cold  moon  above  her  head. 
Thus  on  her  knees  did  Goody  pray ; 
Young  Harry  heard  what  she  had  said, 
And  icy  cold  he  turned  away. 

He  went  complaining  all  the  morrow 

That  he  was  cold  and  very  chill : 

His  face  was  gloom,  his  heart  was  sorrow. 


328 


FOURTH  READER. 


Alas  !  that  day  for  Harry  Gill ! 
That  day  he  wore  a  riding  coat^ 
But  not  a  whit  the  warmer  he : 
Another  was  on  Thursday  bought ; 
And  ere  the  Sabbath  he  had  three. 


'Twas  all  in  vain,  a  useless  matter, 
And  blankets  were  about  him  pinned  : 
Yet  still  his  jaws  and  teeth  they  chatter, 
Like  a  loose  casement  in  the  wind. 
And  Harry's  flesh  it  fell  away, 
And  all  who  see  him  say  'tis  plain 
That,  live  as  long  as  live  he  may, 
He  never  will  be  warm  again. 

No  word  to  any  man  he  utters. 
Abed  or  up,  to  young  or  old ; 
But  ever  to  himself  he  mutters, 
"  Poor  Harry  Gill  is  very  cold  !  " 
Abed  or  up,  by  night  or  day. 
His  teeth  they  chatter,  chatter  still. 
Now  think,  ye  farmers  all,  I  pray. 
Of  Goody  Blake  and  Harry  Gill ! 

W.  Wordsworth. 


Trespass. — Going  to  some  one 
else's  grounds  without  leave. 

Detected. — Found  out,  discov- 
ered doing  a  wrong. 


Uprearing. — Lifting  up. 
Casement.  —  Window  that  opens 

on    hinges;     window  case,    or 

frame. 


THE    TRUTH-TELLEK.  329 

LXXXV. 

be-tray  sig-nal  gov-ern-or  rev-o-lu-tion 


THE   TRUTH-TELLER. 

1.  In  the  year  1777,  in  the  war  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, a  governor,  whose  name  was  Griswold,  found 
himself  in  danger  of  being  seized  by  the  king's 
soldiers,  and  took  shelter  in  a  farm-house,  which 
was  the  home  of  a  relative.  While  hidden  there, 
he  heard  that  a  band  of  soldiers  was  on  the  road 
with  orders  to  search  the  farm  and  seize  him. 

2.  Griswold  thought  he  would  try  to  reach  a 
small  stream  with  deep  banks  on  each  side,  where 
he  had  left  a  boat  which  the  passers-by  could  not 
see.  In  great  haste  he  went  out  of  the  house  to 
go  through  an  orchard,  where  he  found  a  young 
girl,  about  twelve  years  old,  with  her  dog.  They 
were  watching  some  long  pieces  of  linen  cloth 
which  lay  around,  stretched  out  in  the  sun  to 
bleach. 

3.  Hetty  was  on  a  bank  with  her  knitting,  and 
near  her  was  a  pail  of  water,  from  which  she 
sprinkled  the  cloth  now  and  then,  to  keep  it  damp. 
She  started  up  when  a  man  leaped  over  the  fence, 


330  FOURTH    READER. 

but  she  soon  saw  it  was  her  cousin,  Governor  Gris- 
wold. 

4.  "  Hetty/'  he  said,  "  I  shall  lose  my  life  unless 
I  can  get  to  the  boat  before  the  soldiers  come. 
You  see  where  the  roads  part,  close  by  the  orchard ; 
I  want  you  to  run  down  towards  the  shore  and 
meet  the  soldiers,  who  are  sure  to  ask  for  me,  and 
tell  them  that  I  have  gone  up  the  road  to  catch 
the  mail-cart." 

5.  Hetty.  "  But,  cousin,  how  can  I  say  so  ?  —  it 
would  not  be  true.  Oh,  why  did  you  tell  me 
which  way  you  were  going  ?" 

Griswold.  "  Would  you  betray  me,  Hetty,  and 
see  me  put  to  death?  Hark!  they  are  coming. 
I  hear  the  clink  of  the  horses'  feet :  tell  them  I 
have  gone  up  the  road,  and  Heaven  will  bless 
you." 

6.  Hetty.  "Those  who  speak  false  words  will 
never  be  happy ;  but  they  shall  not  make  me  tell 
which  way  you  go,  even  if  they  kill  me  —  so  run 
as  fast  as  you  can." 

Griswold.  "  It  is  too  late  to  run.  Where  can  I 
hide  myself  ?  " 

7.  Hetty.  "  Be  quick,  cousin,  come  down  and  lie 
under  this  cloth ;  I  will  throw  it  over  you  and  go 
on  sprinkling  the  linen," 


THE    TRUTH-TELLER.  331 

Griswold.  "  I  will  come  down,  for  it  is  my  last 
chance." 

8.  He  was  soon  hidden  under  the  heavy  folds  of 
the  long  cloth.  In  a  few  minutes  a  party  of  horse- 
soldiers  dashed  along  the  road.  An  officer  saw  the 
girl,  and  called  out  to  her  in  a  loud  voice  — 

"  Have  you  seen  a  man  run  by  this  way  ? " 
Hetty.  "Yes,  sir." 

9.  Officer.    "  Which  way  did  he  go  ?  " 
Hetty.    "  I  promised  not  to  tell,  sir." 

Officer.  "  But  you  must  tell  me  this  instant,  or 
it  will  be  worse  for  you." 

Hetty,  "I  will  not  tell,  for  I  must  keep  my 
word." 

"Let  me  speak,  for  I  think  I  know  the  child," 
said  a  man  who  was  guide  to  the  party. 

10.  Guide.   "  Is  your  name  Hetty  Marvin  ?  " 
Hetty.   "  Yes,  sir." 

Guide.  "Perhaps  the  man  who  ran  past  you 
was  your  cousin  ?  " 

Hetty.    "  Yes,  sir,  he  was." 

Guide.  "  Well,  we  wish  to  speak  with  him ; 
what  did  he  say  to  you  when  he  came  by?" 

Hetty.  "  He  told  me  that  he  had  to  run  to  save 
his  life." 

11.  Guide.   "Just  so;    that  was  quite  true.     I 


332  FOUETH    KEADER. 

hope  he  will  not  have  far  to  run.     Where  was  he 
going  to  hide  himself  ? " 

Hetty.  "  My  cousin  said  that  he  would  go  to  the 
river  to  find  a  boat,  and  he  wanted  me  to  tell  the 
men  in  search  of  him  that  he  had  gone  the  other 
way  to  meet  the  mail-cart." 

12.  Guide.  "  You  are  a  good  girl,  Hetty,  and  we 
know  you  speak  the  truth.  What  did  your  cousin 
say  when  he  heard  that  you  could  not  tell  a  lie  to 
save  his  life  ?  " 

Hetty.  "  He  said,  '  Would  I  betray  him  and  see 
him  put  to  death ?'" 

Guide.  "  And  you  said  you  would  not  tell,  if  you 
were  killed  for  it?" 

Poor  Hetty's  tears  fell  fast,  as  she  said,  "  Yes, 
sir." 

13.  Guide.  "  Those  were  brave  words,  and  I  sup- 
pose he  thanked  you,  and  ran  down  the  road  as 
fast  as  he  could  ?  " 

Hetty.  "I  promised  not  to  tell  which  way  he 
went,  sir." 

Gfuide.  "Oh,  yes  —  I  forgot;  but  tell  me  his  last 
words,  and  I  will  not  trouble  you  any  more." 

14.  Hetty.  "  He  said,  '  I  will  come  down,  for  it 
is  my  last  chance.'  " 

Hetty  was  now  in  great  fear ;  she  sobbed  aloud, 


THE    TRUTH-TELLER.  333 

and  hid  her  face  in  her  apron.  The  soldiers  thought 
they  had  got  all  they  wanted  to  know,  and  rode  ofE 
to  the  river-side. 

15.  While  Griswold  lay  hid  at  the  farm  he  had 
agreed  upon  a  signal  with  his  boatmen,  that  if  in 
trouble  he  would  put  a  white  cloth  by  day,  or  a 
light  at  night,  in  the  attic  window  of  his  hiding- 
place,  and  when  either  signal  was  seen,  the  men 
were  to  be  on  the  watch  ready  to  help  him  in  case 
of  need.  No  sooner  did  the  soldiers  ride  away 
than  Griswold' s  friends  in  the  house  hung  out  a 
white  cloth  from  the  window,  to  warn  the  boat- 
men, who  pulled  out  to  sea,  when  they  saw  the  red 
coats  of  the  soldiers  as  they  dashed  along  the  river- 
side. 

16.  The  boat,  with  two  men  in  it,  was  nearly  out 
of  sight  by  the  time  the  soldiers  got  to  the  shore, 
and  this  caused  them  to  think  that  Griswold  had 
made  his  escape. 

Meantime  he  lay  safe  and  quiet  until  the  time 
came  for  Hetty  to  go  home  to  supper.  Then  he 
bade  her  ask  her  mother  to  put  the  signal-lamp  in 
the  window  as  soon  as  it  grew  dark,  and  send  him 
some  clothes  and  food.  The  signal  was  seen,  the 
boat  came  back,  and  Griswold  made  his  way  to  it 
in  safety. 


334 


FOUETH  KEADER. 


17.  In  better  days,  when  the  war  was  over,  he 
named  his  first  child  Hetty  Marvin,  that  he  might 
daily  think  of  the  brave  young  cousin  whose  sense 
and  truthfulness  had  saved  his  life. 

Miss  Crompton. 


Revolution. — The  word  used  by 
Americans  to  indicate  the  war 
by  which  they  gained  their  free- 
dom from  British  rule. 

Signal.  — A  sign  which  has  been 
agreed  upon  to  give  notice  of 


danger  or  occurrence  at  a  dis- 
tance. 
Betray. — To  deliver  into  the  hands 
of  an  enemy.     To  violate  the 
confidence  of  one  who  trusted. 


>J<«c 


LXXXVI. 


vic-to-ry 
riv-u-let 


Eu-gene 
■Wil-liel-mine 


liere-a-bout 
ex-pect-ant 


plo\^7■-sllare 
Marl-bro' 


THE    BATTLE   OF    BLENHEIM. 
It  was  a  summer  evening, 

Old  Kaspar's  work  was  done, 
And  he,  before  his  cottage  door, 

Was  sitting  in  the  sun ; 
And  by  him  sported  on  the  green 
His  little  grandchild  Wilhelmine. 

She  saw  her  brother  Peterkin 
Roll  something  large  and  rounds 


THE    BATTLE    OF    BLENHEIM. 


335 


That  he,  beside  the  rivulet, 

In  playing  there  had  found ; 
She  ran  to  ask  what  he  had  found, 
That  was  so  large,  and  smooth,  and  round. 


Old  Kaspar  took  it  from  the  boy, 
Who  stood  expectant  by ; 


336  FOURTH   READER. 

And  then  the  old  man  shook  his  head, 

And  with  a  natural  sigh, 
"  'Tis  some  poor  fellow's  skull,"  said  he, 
"  Who  fell  in  the  great  victory. 

"  I  find  them  in  my  garden,  for 

There's  many  hereabout ; 
And  often  when  I  go  to  plow. 

The  plowshare  turns  them  out ; 
For  many  thousand  men,"  said  he, 
a  "Were  slain  in  that  great  victory." 

"  Now  tell  us  what  'twas  all  about," 

Young  Peterkin  he  cri^s. 
And  little  Wilhelmine  looks  up, 

With  wonder-waiting  eyes : 
"  Now  tell  us  all  about  the  war, 
And  what  they  killed  each  other  for." 

"  It  was  the  English,"  Kaspar  cried, 
"  Who  put  the  French  to  rout, 

But  what  they  killed  each  other  for, 
I  could  not  well  make  out. 

But  everybody  said,"  quoth  he, 

''  That  'twas  a  famous  victory. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  BLENHEIM.        337 

"  My  father  lived  at  Blenheim  then, 

Yon  little  stream  hard  by; 
They  burned  his  cottage  to  the  ground, 

And  he  was  forced  to  fly ; 
So  with  his  wife  and  child  he  fled, 
Nor  had  he  where  to  rest  his  head. 

"  With  fire  and  sword  the  country  round 

Was  wasted  far  and  wide. 
And  many  a  tender  mother  then, 

And  new-born  baby  died. 
But  things  like  that  you  know  must  be 
At  every  famous  victory. 

"  They  say  it  was  a  shocking  sight 

After  the  field  was  won, 
For  many  thousand  bodies  here 

Lay  rotting  in  the  sun. 
But  things  like  that,  you  know,  must  be 
After  a  famous  victory. 

"  Great  praise  the  Duke  of  Marlbro'  won, 
And  our  good  Prince  Eugene." 

"  Why,  'twas  a  very  wicked  thing !  " 
Said  little  Wilhelmine. 


338 


FOURTH  READER. 


"  Nay,  nay,  my  little  girl,"  quoth  he, 
"  It  was  a  famous  victory. 


"  And  everybody  praised  the  duke, 
Who  this  great  fight  did  win." 

"  But  what  good  came  of  it  at  last  ?  " 
Quoth  little  Peterkin. 

"  Why,  that  I  cannot  tell,"  said  he ; 

"But  'twas  du famous  victory'' 

SOUTHEY. 


Blenheim.  —  A  battle  fought  in 
1704,  at  Blenheim,  in  Bavaria, 
in  which  the  Duke  of  Marlbor- 
ough, a  great  English  general, 
and  Prince  Eugene  of  Savoy, 
defeated  the  French  and  Bava- 
rians. 

Sported.— Played. 


Rivulet.  —  A  little  stream. 
Expectant.  —  Expecting,  waiting. 
Many    thousand.  —  36,000  were 

killed  or  wounded. 
Wonder  -  waiting.  —  Waiting    to 

hear  something  wonderful. 
Rout.  —  Defeat. 
Quoth  he.  —  Said  he. 


>:«ic 


pre-vent-ed 
ac-cus-tomed 


LXXXVII. 


en-gag-ing 
feath.-er-ing 


an-nounced 
mys-ter-y 


vig-or-ous-ly 
po-lice-man 


OUR     DANDIE.— Part  I. 

1.  A  very  long  dog  is  Dandie,  .with  short  bits  of 
legs,  nice  close-hanging  ears,  hair  as  strong  and 
rough  as  the  brush  you  use  for  your  hair,  and  a 


OUR   DANDIE.  339 

face  —  well,  some  say  it  is  ugly;  I  myself,  and  all 
my  friends,  think  it  is  most  engaging. 

2.  It  is  partly  hidden  with  bonny  soft  locks  of 
an  amber  or  golden  hue;  but  push  those  locks 
aside,  and  you  will  see  nothing  in  the  beautiful 
dark  hazel  eyes  but  love  and  fun :   for  Dandie  is 


full  of  fun.     Oh,  how  she  does  enjoy  a  run  with 
the  children ! 

3.  On  the  road  she  goes  feathering  here,  there, 
and  everywhere.  Her  legs  are  hardly  straight,  you 
must  understand  —  the  legs  of  few  Dandies  are,  for 
they  are  so  accustomed  to  creep  down  drains,  and 
into  all  sorts  of  holes,  and  go  scraping  here  and 
scraping  there  that  their  feet  and  fore-legs  turn  at 
last  something  like  a  mole's. 


340  FOURTH   READER. 

4.  Dandle  was  not  always  the  gentle,  loving  crea- 
ture she  is  now,  and  this  is  the  reason  I  am  writ- 
ing her  story.  Here,  then,  is  how  I  came  by 
Dandle.  I  was  sitting  in  my  study  one  morning 
writing,  as  usual,  when  a  carriage  stopped  at  the 
door,  and  presently  a  friend  was  announced. 

5.  "  Why,  Dawson,  my  boy,"  I  cried,  getting  up 
to  greet  him,  "  what  wind  blew  you  all  the  way 
here  ?  " 

"  Not  a  good  one,  by  any  means,"  said  Dawson ; 
"  I  came  to  see  you  about  something." 

"  Well,  well,  sit  down  and  tell  me  about  it.  I 
hope  your  sister  is  not  ill." 

"  Well,"  he  replied  absently,  ''  I  think  IVe  done 
all  for  the  best ;  though  that  policeman  nearly  had 
her.    But  she  left  her  mark  upon  him.    Ha !  ha  !  " 

6.  I  began  to  think  my  friend  was  going  out  of 
his  mind.  "Dawson,"  I  said,  "what  have  you 
done  with  her?" 

"  She's  outside  in  the  carriage,"  replied  Dawson. 

7.  I  jumped  up  to  ring  the  bell,  saying,  "  Why, 
Dawson,  pray  have  the  young  lady  in.  It  is  cruel 
to  leave  her  by  herself." 

Dawson  jumped  up,  too,  and  placing  his  hand 
on  my  arm,  prevented  me  from  touching  the  bell- 
rope. 


OUR   DANDIE.  341 

8.  "No,  no!"  he  cried,  "pray  do  not  think  of 
it.  She  would  bite  you,  tear  you,  rend  you.  Oh^ 
she  is  a  vixen.''  This  last  word  he  pronounced 
with  great  emphasis,  sinking  once  more  into  the 
chair,  and,  gazing  absently  at  the  fire,  he  added, 
"  And  still  I  love  her,  good  little  thing !  " 

9.  I  now  felt  quite  sorry  for  Dawson.  A  moment 
ago  T  merely  thought  he  was  out  of  his  mind,  now 
I  felt  perfectly  sure  of  it. 

There  was  a  few  minutes'  silence ;  and  then  my 
friend  rushed  to  the  window  exclaiming,  "  There, 
there !  She's  at  it  again !  She  has  got  the  cab- 
man by  the  coat-tails,  and  she'll  eat  her  way 
through  him  in  five  minutes,  if  I  don't  go." 

10.  Out  he  ran;  and  I  followed,  more  puzzled 
than  ever.  There  in  the  carriage  was  no  young 
lady  at  all,  but  only  the  dear  little  Dandie  whose 
story  I  am  writing.  She  was  busily  engaged  in 
tearing  the  driver's  blue  coat  into  strips,  and 
growling  all  the  while  most  vigorously.  She 
quieted  down,  however,  as  soon  as  she  saw  her 
master,  jumped  into  his  arms,  and  began  to  lick 
his  face. 

11.  So  the  mystery  was  cleared  up.  Half  an 
hour  afterward  I  was  persuaded  to  become  the 
owner  of  that  savage  Dandie,  and  Dawson  had 


342 


FOURTH  READER. 


kissed  her  and  left,  lighter  in  heart  than  when  he 
had  come. 


Engaging.  —  Winning,  attractive. 

Bonny. — Nice,  pretty. 

Feathering.  — Frisking. 

Dandie,  or  Dandie  Dinmont.  —  A 
breed  of  dogs  (see  illustration), 
so  called  from  a  Scotch  farmer 
of  that  name  in  Sir  Walter 
Scott's  novel,  "  Waverley." 


Announced.  —  A  servant  showed 

him  in. 
Absently.  —  As  though  thinking 

of  something  else. 
Vixen.  — A  female  fox ;  used  here 

to  mean  an  ill-tempered  creature. 
Emphasis.  —  Stress  laid  on  a  word 

or  words  in  speaking. 


blithe-some 


3j*ic 


lieaven--ward 


as-pir-mg 


el-e-ment 


THE    FOUNTAIN. 
Into  the  sunshine, 

Full  of  the  light, 
Leaping  and  flashing 

From  morn  till  night ! 

Into  the  moonlight, 
Whiter  than  snow, 

Waving  so  flower-like 
When  the  winds  blow ! 


Into  the  starlight. 
Rushing  in  spray, 


THE   FOUNTAIN.  343 

Happy  at  midnight, 
Happy  by  day ! 

Ever  in  motion, 

Blithesome  and  cheery, 
Still  climbing  heavenward, 

Never  aweary ; 

Glad  of  all  weathers, 

Still  seeming  best. 
Upward  and  downward, 

Motion  thy  rest ; 

Full  of  a  nature 

Nothing  can  tame, 
Changed  every  moment, 

Ever  the  same ; 

Ceaseless  aspiring. 

Ceaseless  content. 
Darkness  or  sunshine 

Thy  element ; 

Glorious  fountain ! 

Let  my  heart  be 

Fresh,  changeful,  constant, 

Upward  like  thee. 

J.  R.  Lowell. 


Aspiring.  —  Eager  to  rise  higher.  |   Blithesome.  —  Gay,  mirthful. 


344  FOURTH    READER. 


LXXXIX. 

vi-cious  ne-glect-ed        dis-suade  sit-u-a-tion 

re-plen-ish.       pe-cul-iar  con-sid-ered         de-ter-mined 


OUR.  DANDIE.  — Part  II. 

1.  I  set  aside  one  of  the  best  barrel  kennels  for 
her,  had  a  quantity  of  nice  dry  straw  placed  in  it, 
and  gave  her  two  dishes,  one  to  be  filled  daily  with 
pure,  clean  water  —  without  which,  remember,  no 
dog  can  be  healthy  —  and  the  other  to  hold  her 
food. 

2.  Now,  I  am  not  afraid  of  any  dog.  I  have 
owned  scores  in  my  time,  and  by  treating  them 
gently  and  firmly  I  always  managed  to  subdue 
even  the  most  vicious  among  them,  and  get  them 
to  love  me.  But  I  must  confess  that  this  Dandie 
was  the  most  savage  animal  that  I  had  ever  met. 

3.  When  I  went  to  take  her  dish  away  next 
morning,  to  wash  and  replenish  it,  only  my  own 
quickness  in  beating  a  retreat  prevented  my  legs 
from  being  savagely  bitten.  I  then  tried  to  re- 
move the  dish  with  the  stable  broom.  Alas  for 
the  broom !  Howling  and  growling  with  passion, 
with  flashing  eyes  and  glistening  teeth,  she  tore 
it  in  pieces,  and  then  attacked  the  handle.     But 


OUR   DANDIE.  345 

I  succeeded  in  feeding  her,  after  which  she  was 
more  quiet. 

4.  Now,  dogs,  to  keep  them  in  health,  need  daily 
exercise,  and  I  determined  Dandie  should  not  want 
that,  wild  though  she  seemed  to  be.  There  was 
another  scene  when  I  went  to  unloose  her;  and  I 
found  the  only  chance  of  doing  so  was  to  treat  her 
as  they  do  wild  bulls  in  some  parts  of  the  country. 

6.  I  got  a  hook  and  attached  it  to  the  end  of  a 
pole  of  the  same  length  as  the  chain.  I  could  then 
keep  her  at  a  safe  distance.  And  thus  for  a  whole 
week  I  had  to  lead  her  out  for  exercise.  I  missed 
no  chance  of  making  friends  with  her,  and  in  a 
fortnight's  time  I  could  both  take  her  dish  without 
a  broom,  and  lead  her  out  without  the  pole. 

6.  She  was  still  the  vixen,  however,  which  her 
former  master  had  called  her.  When  she  was  pre- 
sented with  a  biscuit,  she  wouldn't  think  of  eating 
it  before  she  had  had  her  own  peculiar  game  with 
it.  She  would  lay  it  against  the  back  of  the  barrel, 
and  pretend  not  to  see  it,  then  suddenly  she  would 
look  round,  fly  at  it,  growling  and  yelping  with 
rage,  and  shake  it  as  she  would  a  rat. 

7.  Into  such  a  perfect  fury  and  frenzy  did  she 
work  herself  during  her  battle  with  the  biscuit,  that 
sometimes,  on  hearing  her  chain  rattle,  she  would 


346  FOURTH    READER. 

seize  and  shake  it  savagely.  At  these  times,  I  have 
often  seen  her  bite  her  tail  because  it  dared  to  wag 
—  bite  it  till  the  blood  sprang,  then  with  a  howl  of 
pain  bite  it  again  and  again.  At  last  I  made  up 
my  mind  to  feed  her  only  on  soft  food,  and  this  1 
have  since  done. 

8.  Poor  Dandie  had  now  been  with  us  many 
months,  and  as  she  was  almost  always  chained, 
her  life,  upon  the  whole,  was  by  no  means  a  happy 
one. 

Her  hair,  too,  got  matted,  and  she  looked  so 
morose  and  dirty,  that  the  thought  occurred  to 
my  wife  and  me  that  she  would  be  much  better 
dead.  I  considered  the  matter  in  all  its  bearings 
for  fully  half  an  hour,  and  then  suddenly  jumped 
up  from  my  chair. 

9.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  "  asked  my  wife. 
"Fm  going  to  wash  Dandie;   wash  her,  comb 

out  all  her  mats,  dry  her,  and  brush  her,  for,  do 
you  know,  I  feel  guilty  of  having  neglected  her." 

10.  My  wife,  in  terror,  tried  to  dissuade  me.  But 
my  mind  was  made  up,  and  shortly  after  so  was 
Dandie' s  bed  —  of  clean  dry  straw  in  a  warm  loft 
above  the  stable.  "  Firmly  and  kindly  does  it,"  I 
had  said  to  myself  as  I  seized  the  vixen  by  the 
nape  of  the  neck,  and  in  spite  of  her  efforts  to  rend 


OUK   DANDIE.  347 

any  part  of  my  person  she  could  lay  hold  of,  I 
popped  her  into  the  tub. 

11.  Vixen,  did  I  say  ?  She  was  popped  into  the 
tub  a  vixen,  but  I  soon  found  I  had  tamed  the  shrew, 
and  after  she  was  rinsed  in  cold  water,  well  dried, 
combed,  and  brushed,  the  poor  little  thing  jumped 
on  my  knee  and  kissed  me.  Then  I  took  her  for  a 
run  —  a  thing  one  ought  never  to  neglect  after 
washing  a  dog.  And  you  wouldn't  have  known 
Dandie  now,  so  beautiful  did  she  look. 

12.  Dandie  is  still  alive.  She  lies  at  my  feet  as 
I  write,  a  living  example  of  the  power  of  kindness. 
She  loves  us  all,  and  will  let  my  sister,  wife,  or 
little  niece  do  anything  with  her,  but  she  is  still 
most  viciously  savage  to  nearly  all  strangers.  She 
is  the  best  watchdog  I  ever  possessed,  and  a  terror 
to  tramps. 

13.  She  is  wise,  too,  this  Dandie  of  mine,  for 
when  walking  out  with  any  one  of  my  relations, 
she  is  as  gentle  as  a  lamb,  and  will  let  anyone 
fondle  her.  SI  e  may  thus  be  safely  taken  with 
us  when  maki-ng  calls  upon  friends,  but  very  few 
indeed  of  those  friends  dare  go  near  her  when  in 
her  own  garden  or  kennel. 

14.  We  have  been  well  rewarded  for  our  kindness 
to  Dandie,  for  though  her  usual  residence  by  day 


348 


FOUKTH    READER. 


is  her  barrel,  and  by  night  with  the  other  dogs,  she 
is  often  taken  into  the  house,  and  in  spite  of  our 
being  in  a  somewhat  lonely  situation,  she  becomes 
a  parlor  boarder  whenever  I  go  from  home  for  the 
night,  and  I  feel  easy  in  my  mind  because  Dandie 

is  in  the  house.  Gordon  Stables. 


Scores.  —  The    number    20  is  a 

score,  as  12  is  a  dozen. 
Subdue.  —  Conquer. 
Beating  a  retreat.  —  Escaping.   A 

drum  is  beaten  to  order  soldiers 

to  retreat  or  go  back. 
Replenish.  —  Fill  again. 
Glistening.  —  Shining. 
Peculiar.  — Belonging  only  to  one 

person  or  thing. 


Frenzy.  —  Frantic  rage. 

Morose.  —  Sullen. 

In  all  its  bearings.  — On  all  sides. 

Shrew.  —  An  ill-tempered  female. 

Parlor  boarder.  —  One  who  lives 
and  takes  meals  with  a  family. 

Presented  with  a  biscuit.  —  A 
biscuit  or  cracker,  as  it  is  often 
called,  was  given  to  her. 


>5<«c 


XC. 


fierce 
■wield 


fasli-ioned 
smoul-dered 


cour-a-geous 
h.and-i-'work 


■weap-ons 
car-nage 


TUBAL  CAIN. 
Old  Tubal  Cain  was  a  man  of  might 

In  the  days  when  earth  was  young ; 
By  the  fierce  red  light  of  his  furnace  bright 

The  strokes  of  his  hammer  rung ; 
And  he  lifted  high  his  brawny  hand 

On  the  iron  growing  clear, 


TUBAL   CAIN. 


349 


Till  the  sparks  rushed  out  in  scarlet  showers 
As  he  fashioned  the  sword  and  spear. 

And  he  sang,  —  Hurrah  for  my  handiwork ! 
Hurrah  for  the  spear  and  sword ! 


Hurrah  for  the  hand  that  shall  wield  them  well, 
For  he  shall  be  king  and  lord ! '' 


To  Tubal  Cain  came  many  a  one, 
As  he  wrought  by  his  glowing  fire, 

And  each  one  prayed  for  a  strong  steel  blade, 
As  the  crown  of  his  desire. 


350  FOURTH  ■  READER. 

And  he  made  them  weapons,  sharp  and  strong, 

Till  they  shouted  loud  for  glee, 
And  gave  him  gifts  of  pearls  and  gold, 

And  spoils  of  the  forest  free. 
And  they  sang,  —  "  Hurrah  for  Tubal  Cain, 

Who  hath  given  us  strength  anew ! 
Hurrah  for  the  smith !  Hurrah  for  the  fire  ! 

Hurrah  for  the  metal  true!" 

But  a  sudden  change  came  o'er  his  heart, 

Ere  the  setting  of  the  sun ; 
And  Tubal  Cain  was  filled  with  pain 

For  the  evil  he  had  done. 
He  saw  that  men,  with  rage  and  hate. 

Made  war  upon  their  kind ; 
That  the  land  was  red  with  the  blood  they  shed 

In  their  lust  for  carnage  blind. 
And  he  said,  —  "  Alas  !  that  I  ever  made, 

Or  that  skill  of  mine  should  plan 
The  spear  and  sword  for  men  whose  joy 

Is  to  slay  their  fellowman !  " 

And  for  many  a  day  old  Tubal  Cain 

Sat  brooding  o'er  his  woe ; 
And  his  hand  forebore  to  smite  the  ore. 

And  his  furnace  smouldered  low. 


TUBAL    CAIN. 


351 


But  he  rose  at  last  with  a  cheerful  face, 

And  a  bright  courageous  eye, 
And  bared  his  strong  right  arm  for  work, 

While  the  quick  flames  mounted  high. 
And  he  sang,  —  "  Hurrah  for  my  handiwork  !  " 

As  the  red  sparks  lit  the  air. 
Not  alone  for  the  blade  was  the  bright  steel  made  ! 

And  he  fashioned  the  first  plowshare. 


And  men,  taught  wisdom  from  the  past. 

In  friendship  joined  their  hands. 
Hung  the  sword  in  the  hall,  the  spear  on  the  wall. 

And  plowed  their  willing  lands. 
And  sung,  —  "  Hurrah  for  Tubal  Cain  ! 

Our  stanch  good  friend  is  he. 
And  for  the  plowshare  and  the  plow 

To  him  our  praise  shall  be. 
But  while  oppression  rules  its  head. 

Or  a  tyrant  would  be  lord, 

Though  we  may  thank  him  for  the  plow. 

We'll  not  forget  the  sword  ! " 

Charles  Mackay. 


Spoils  of  the  forest,  —  Beasts 
killed  in  the  chase  and  the 
skins,  tusks,  etc.,  obtained  from 
them  for  food,  clothing,  and 
ornaments. 

Brawny.  —  Strong,  muscular. 


Lust  for  carnage.  —  Wild,  mad 

desire  for  slaughter. 
Fashioned.  —  Shaped  and  made. 
Forebore.  —  Ceased. 
Tubal  Cain.  —  See  Genesis  iv.  22. 


352  FOURTH   READER. 


XCI. 

do-main  hin-drance  be-"wail-ing         cav-al-cade 

dis-closed  gal-lant  up-braid-ed         pas-sen-ger 


THE   STONE    IN    THE    ROAD. 

1.  In  a  far-off  country,  and  a  far-off  time,  in  the 
domain  of  honest  Duke  Otho,  near  the  little  village 
of  Himmelsmerl,  a  tall  man  in  a  long  cloak  might 
have  been  seen,  in  the  night-time,  in  a  deep  cut  of 
the  road,  called  the  Dornthau.  He  was  scoop- 
ing out  a  little  round  hollow  in  the  very  middle  of 
the  road. 

2.  When  it  was  as  deep  as  he  wished,  he  lined 
the  sides  and  bottom  with  pebbles,  then  went  to 
the  side  of  the  road,  and  worked  at  a  large  stone 
till  it  was  loosened.  It  was  so  heavy  that  he  could 
only  stagger  with  it  to  the  hole  in  the  road. 

From  the  folds  of  his  cloak  he  took  something 
about  the  size  of  his  fist,  placed  it  in  the  pebble- 
lined  hole,  let  the  stone  drop  so  as  to  cover  it 
wholly,  and  then  went  his  way. 

3.  Next  morning  a  sturdy  peasant  came  that 
way  with  his  lumbering  ox-cart. 

"  Oh,  the  laziness,"  he  cried,  "  of  these  people ! 
Here  is  this  big  stone  right  in  the  middle  of  the 


THE    STONE    IN    THE    ROAD.  353 

road,  and  not  one  of  them  has  bethought  himself 
to  thrust  it  aside  lest  it  should  break  the  bones  of 
the  next  body  that  comes  by!" 

4.  And  the  sturdy  Hans  lumbered  away,  mutter- 
ing to  himself  at  the  laziness  of  the  people  of  Him- 
melsmerl,  and  told  his  wife  and  children  when  he 
went  home  that  the  Duke  ought  to  know  what 
kind  of  folk  his  people  were. 

5.  Next  a  gallant  knight,  with  bright  and  wav- 
ing plume  and  dangling  sword,  rollicked  along, 
singing  a  lively  ditty.  His  head  was  too  far  back 
for  him  to  notice  the  stone,  and  down  he  fell  with 
his  sword  between  his  legs.  He  dropped  his  song 
for  a  growl  at  "  those  boors,  that  leave  a  rock  in 
the  road  to  break  a  gentleman's  shins." 

6.  Next  came  a  company  of  merchants,  with 
pads,  pack-horses,  and  goods,  on  their  way  to  the 
fair  that  was  to  be  held  at  the  Duke's  great  town. 
When  these  came  to  the  stone,  so  narrow  was  the 
road  they  had  to  file  off  on  either  side,  and  Berthold 
cried :  — 

"  To  think  the  like  of  that  big  stone  lying  there, 
and  every  soul  to  go  past  all  the  morning,  and  never 
stop  to  take  it  away !  That  will  be  something  to 
tell  friend  Hans,  who  is  always  bewailing  the  sloth 
of  the  Himmelsmerl  folk." 


354  FOUKTH    READER. 

7.  And  thus  it  went  on  for  the  three  weeks  that 
were  left  of  October.  Every  passenger  upbraided 
his  neighbor  for  leaving  the  hindrance  where  he 
found  it. 

8.  When  three  weeks  had  passed  since  the  tall 
man  in  the  cloak  put  the  stone  where  we  have  seen 
it,  the  Duke  sent  to  his  people  of  Himmelsmerl  to 
meet  him  on  the  Dornthau,  for  he  had  something 
to  tell  them.  The  day  was  come,  and  a  crowd 
thronged  the  road  at  the  appointed  spot. 

9.  Old  Hans  was  there,  and  the  merchant  Ber- 
thold.     Said  Hans:  — 

"  I  hope  my  Lord  Duke  will  now  know  what  a 
lazy  set  he  is  duke  over." 

"  It  is  a  shame,"  answered  Berthold. 

And  now  a  winding  horn  was  heard,  and  a 
cavalcade  came  galloping  up.  The  Duke  rode 
into  the  cut,  and  the  people  closed  in  at  each 
end,  and  pressed  nearer  together  on  the  bank 
above. 

10.  Then  honest  Duke  Otho,  who  had  dismounted, 
began  with  a  half  smile  to  speak : 

"  My  people,  you  know  I  am  fond  of  teaching 
you  now  and  then  a  lesson  in  an  odd  way,  and  for 
such  a  lesson  have  I  called  you  together  this  day. 
It  was  I  that  put  this  stone  here,  and  for  three 


THE    STONE    IN   THE   ROAD. 


355 


weeks  every  passer-by  has  left  it  here,  and  scolded 
his  neighbors  for  not  taking  it  out  of  the  way." 

11.  When  he  had  thus  spoken  he  stooped  down, 
lifted  the  stone,  and  disclosed  a  round  hollow  lined 
with  white  pebbles,  and  in  it  a  small  leathern  bag. 
This  the  Duke  held  aloft,  that  all  the  people  might 
see  what  was  written  upon  it, — 

"  For  him  who  lifts  the  stone!  " 

12.  He  untied  it,  turned  it  upside  down,  and  out 
upon  the  stone  fell,  with  a  clear  ring,  a  score  of 
bright  gold  coins.  Hans  looked  at  Berthold  and 
said: 

"Humph!" 

And  Berthold  looked  back  at  Hans  and  said: 
"  Humph ! " 

And  the  Duke  looked  around  him  with  a  smile, 
and  said : 

"  My  people,  rememljer  the  stone  in  the  road!' 


Domain.  —  Property  in  land ;  es- 
tate ;  place  of  authority. 

Sturdy.  —  Stout,  strong. 

Boor.  —  A  rustic  peasant ;  a  term 
of  reproach  used  to  signify  rude- 
ness and  ignorance. 


Bewailing.  —  Lamenting,  grieving 

over. 
Cavalcade.  —  A     procession     on 

horseback. 
Upbraided.  —  Charged  with  wrong 

or  fault. 


This  lesson  is  an  example  of  what  is  called  Illustrative  Fiction : 
a  story  told  to  emphasize  a  truth  or  teach  a  lesson.  There  is 
another  on  pp.  37-40.     Find  others. 


356  FOURTH   READER. 


XCII. 

treacli-er-ous  "wliirl-ing  tur-bu-lent  fi-er-y 

in-ces-sant  di-lat-ed  lus-trous  mim-ic 


RAIN    IN    SUMMER.  — I. 

1.  How  beautiful  is  the  rain !  After  the  dust 
and  heat,  in  the  broad  and  fiery  street,  in  the 
narrow  lane,  how  beautiful  is  the  rain ! 

How  it  clatters  along  the  roofs  like  the  tramp 
of  hoofs !  How  it  gushes  and  struggles  out  from 
the  throat  of  the  overflowing  spout ! 

2.  Across  the  window-pane  it  pours  and  pours, 
and  swift  and  wide,  with  a  muddy  tide,  like  a 
river  down  the  gutter  roars  —  the  rain,  the  wel- 
come rain ! 

The  sick  man  from  his  chamber  looks  at  the 
twisted  brooks ;  he  can  feel  the  cool  breath  of 
each  little  pool ;  his  fevered  brain  grows  calm 
again,  and  he  breathes  a  blessing  on  the  rain. 

3.  From  the  neighboring  school  come  the  boys, 
with  more  than  wonted  noise  and  commotion, 
and  down  the  wet  streets  sail  their  mimic  fleets, 
till  the  treacherous  pool  engulfs  them  in  its  whirl- 
ing and  turbulent  ocean: 

In  the  country,  on  every  side,  where  far  and 


RAIN   IN   SUMMER. 


357 


wide,  like  a  leopard's  tawny  and  spotted  hide, 
stretches  the  plain,  to  the  dry  grass  and  the  drier 
grain,  how  welcome  is  the  rain ! 

4.  In  the  furrowed  land  the  toilsome  and  patient 
oxen  stand.  Lifting  the  yoke-encumbered  head, 
with  their  dilated  nostrils  spread,  they  silently 
inhale  the  clover-scented  gale  and  the  vapors  that 
arise  from  the  well-watered  and  smoking  soil. 
For  this  rest  in  the  furrow  after  toil  their  large 
and  lustrous  eyes  seem  to  thank  the  Lord  more 
than  man's  spoken  word. 

5.  Near  at  hand,  from  under  the  sheltering 
trees,  the  farmer  sees  his  pastures,  and  his  fields 
of  grain,  as  they  bend  their  tops  to  the  numberless 
beating  drops  of  the  incessant  rain.  He  counts  it 
no  sin  that  he  sees  therein  only  his  own  thrift  and 

g^i^-  H.  W.  Longfellow. 


Incessant.  —  Unceasing,  contin- 
ual. 

Wonted.  —  Accustomed. 

Treacherous.  —  False,  like  a  trai- 
tor. 


Dilated.  —  Enlarged,  expanded. 
Lustrous.  —  Bright,  shining. 
Turbulent.  —  Disturbed,   tumult- 


This  exquisite  poem  is  continued  in  the  following  lesson.  It  is 
in  prose  form  to  give  the  pupil  the  exercise  of  finding  the  lines. 
In  the  first  paragraph  are  five  lines  of  poetry  whose  rhyming  words 
are  rain,  lane,  rain,  and  heat,  street.  Copy  the  entire  lesson  as 
poetry. 


358  FOURTH   READER. 

XCIII. 

chasms  per-pet-u-al  im-meas-ur-able         vis-ion 


RAIN     IN    SUMMER.  — II. 

These  and  far  more  than  these. 

The  poet  sees ! 

He  can  behold 

Aquarius  old 

Walking  the  fenceless  fields  of  air ; 

And  from  each  ample  fold 

Of  the  clouds  about  him  rolled, 

Scattering  everywhere 

The  showery  rain, 

As  the  farmer  scatters  his  grain. 

He  can  behold 

Things  manifold 

That  have  not  yet  been  wholly  told, 

Have  not  been  wholly  sung  nor  said, 

For  his  thought  that  never  stops, 

Follows  the  water-drops 

Down  to  the  graves  of  the  dead, 

Down  through  chasms  and  gulfs  profound. 

To  the  dreary  fountain  head 

Of  lakes  and  rivers  under  ground ; 


KAIN    IN    SUMMER. 


359 


And  sees  them,  when  the  rain  is  done, 
On  the  bridge  of  colors  seven 
Climbing  up  once  more  to  heaven 
Opposite  the  setting  sun. 

Thus  the  seer. 

With  vision  clear, 

Sees  forms  appear  and  disappear, 

In  the  perpetual  round  of  change, 

Mysterious  change 

From  birth  to  death,  from  death  to  birth. 

From  earth  to  heaven,  from  heaven  to  earth. 

Till  glimpses  more  sublime 

Of  things,  unseen  before. 

Unto  his  wondering  eyes  reveal 

The  Universe,  as  an  immeasurable  wheel 

Turning  forevermore 

The  rapid  and  rushing  river  of  Time. 


Aquarius.  —  The  Water-bearer,  a 
sign  of  the  Zodiac,  through 
which  the  sun  moves  in  Janu- 
ary and  February ;  so  called 
from  rains  being  frequent  at 
that  season. 


Profound.  —  Deep,  far-reaching. 
Seer.  — A  prophet ;  one  who  knows 

hidden  things. 
Perpetual.  —  Constant,  incessant. 
Universe.  —  The  entire  creation. 


The  representation  of  Aquarius  as  a  person  "  walking  the  fence- 
less fields,"  and  "  scattering  "  the  rain,  is  a  figure  of  speech  called 
Personification. 

To  what  is  the  Universe  compared  ?  What  is  meant  by  "  bridge 
of  colors"? 


360  FOUKTH   READER. 


XCIV. 

de-vice  fal-ch.ion  av-a-lanch.e  spec-tral 

gla-ciers  clar-i-on  ex-cel-si-or  low-ers 


EXCELSIOR. 


The  shades  of  night  were  falling  fast 
As  through  an  Alpine  village  passed 
A  youth,  who  bore,  'mid  snow  and  ice, 
A  banner  with  the  strange  device. 
Excelsior ! 

His  brow  was  sad;  his  eye  beneath 
Flashed  like  a  falchion  from  its  sheath ; 
And  like  a  silver  clarion  rung 
The  accents  of  that  unknown  tongue, 
Excelsior ! 

In  happy  homes  he  saw  the  light 
Of  household  fires  gleam  warm  and  bright ; 
Above  the  spectral  glaciers  shone ; 
And  from  his  lips  escaped  a  groan, 
Excelsior ! 

"  Try  not  the  Pass  !  "  the  old  man  said  ; 
"  Dark  lowers  the  tempest  overhead ; 


EXCELSIOR.  361 

The  roaring  torrent  is  steep  and  wide." 
And  loud  that  clarion  voice  replied, 
Excelsior ! 

"  Oh,  stay/*  the  maiden  said,  "  and  rest 
Thy  weary  head  upon  this  breast !  " 
A  tear  stood  in  his  bright  blue  eye, 
But  still  he  answered  with  a  sigh. 
Excelsior ! 

"  Beware  the  pine-tree's  withered  branch  ! 
Beware  the  awful  avalanche  !  " 
This  was  the  peasant's  last  good-night. 
A  voice  replied,  far  up  the  height. 
Excelsior ! 

At  break  of  day,  as  heavenward 
The  pious  monks  of  St.  Bernard 
Uttered  the  oft-repeated  prayer, 
A  voice  cried  through  the  startled  air, 
Excelsior ! 

A  traveller,  by  the  faithful  hound, 
Half-buried  in  the  snow  was  found. 
Still  grasping  in  his  hand  of  ice 
That  banner  with  the  strange  device, 
Excelsior ! 


362 


FOURTH  READER. 


There  in  the  twilight  cold  and  gray, 
Lifeless,  but  beautiful,  he  lay ; 
And  from  the  sky,  serene  and  far, 
A  voice  fell,  like  a  falling  star. 
Excelsior ! 

H.  W.  Longfellow. 


Device.  —  A  design  or  emblem. 
Falchion.  —  A  broad  sword. 
Spectral.  —  Unreal,  ghost-like. 
Clarion.  —  A     clear-toned,    shrill 

trumpet. 
Avalanche.  —  A    large    mass    of 


snow,  ice,  or  earth  sliding  or 
rolling  down  a  mountain. 

Excelsior.  —  Still  higher,  ever 
upward. 

Serene.  —  Clear  and  calm. 


READING    REVIEW. 

1.  Teaching  of  Nature.  —  Review  the  preceding  lessons,  and 
recite  or  write  something  that  is  told  of  an  ant,  butterfly,  bobolink, 
cat,  dog,  eagle,  fox,  horse,  lamb,  lobster,  linnet,  rabbit,  robin, 
spider,  wasp,  wolf;  acorn,  oak,  amber,  grasses  (Red  Top  and 
Timothy),  wheat,  falling  leaves,  wind,  frost,  rain  in  summer,  win- 
ter rain,  streams,  fountains,  flowers,  etc. 

2.  Authors.  —  Associate  the  following  authors  with  the  selec- 
tion here  given  from  their  writings :  Hans  Andersen,  AUingham, 
Miss  Andrews,  Wm.  Blake,  Bjornson,  Capern,  Louise  ChoUet, 
Susan  Coolidge,  Marian  Douglass,  Mrs.  Edgeworth,  Mrs.  Ewing, 
Mrs.  Gatty,  J.  &  W.  Grimm,  Miss  Havergal,  Mary  Howitt,  Helen 
Hunt,  Heywood,  Charles  Kingsley,  Lucy  Larcom,  James  Russell 
Lowell,  Henry  W.  Longfellow,  Christina  Rossetti,  Jean  Mace, 
Southey,  Bayard  Taylor,  William  Wordsworth,  Miss  Wordsworth. 

3.  Conduct  and  Character.  —  In  which  selection  is  each  of 
the  following  lessons  taught :  contentment,  cheerfulness,  honesty, 
courage,  truthfulness,  thought  for  others,  unselfishness,  the  golden 
rule,  just  retribution  or  natural  punishment  and  reward? 


YB  36620 


"^m 


